


Love Me At Once

by redheadgleek



Category: Glee
Genre: Adventure, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Romance, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fandom Trumps Hate, M/M, Sleeping Beauty AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadgleek/pseuds/redheadgleek
Summary: As the second son, Prince Blaine Andreason never really had any expectations for what his life would be, beyond horseback riding and reading in the garden. And then his brother is cursed by an evil fairy to sleep for a hundred years and he sets off on a secret rescue mission. He never expected to meet Kurt, the blacksmith's son, who could alter the course of his life forever. That is, if he can manage to stay alive.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 180
Kudos: 115
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucy8675309](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy8675309/gifts).



> Special thanks to Snarkyhag for the beta'ing and for helping when my brain got stuck.

The week before Prince Blaine Andreason’s seventeenth birthday, his brother was cursed. If you asked around the kingdom, nobody was exactly surprised - Cooper’s flair for the dramatics had always gotten him into a bit of trouble, but honestly, this was something that they would have expected years ago. His parents had spent much of his teenage years soothing ruffled feathers about protocol deviations, drunken shenanigans, and bedded (but not wedded) ladies and duchesses – and once a princess who seemed to be giving her royal parents an equally difficult reign. His dalliances never seemed to mind that Cooper’s charismatic advances didn’t follow with proposals; their advisors certainly did. Thankfully, in recent years, he had, with the exception of a hasty retreat from nearby Mackinley, settled down into his role of Crown Prince, preparing to eventually take on responsibilities of king and ruler, much to the relief of everyone involved. So when his parents proposed a series of formal balls to introduce him to a few daughters of royal and high-society families he hadn’t “corrupted” (and more than a few that he had) for marital alliances, nobody really foresaw trouble. 

Blaine certainly didn’t. 

As the much younger, long yearned for, and therefore much adored son, Blaine’s childhood had been one of indulgence and happiness. That changed, however, during the years of Cooper’s indiscretions and the swirling rumors of being unsuitable to rule, where suddenly Blaine found himself the focus of his parent’s attention. If it had just been more attention, that would have been acceptable, but instead this seemed to mean more lectures on propriety, attending meetings and war councils with Queen Andrea – not that there had been a war in over fifty years but one must be prepared – and more than one conversation about preparing for the perfect political match, if indeed, his mother bypassed Cooper and crowned Blaine as her successor, as she so often threatened. Needless to say, he is relieved when his parents’ attention turns back to Cooper and while his mother hints that ball invitations had gone out to several young women his age as well, Blaine easily brushes off the suggestions of matchmaking. He enjoys his lifestyle of lazy morning reading in the garden, afternoon horseback riding with annual hunting trips, and management of the country affairs; he has no interest in any marriage, suitable liason or not. 

Blaine lingers at the edge of the dance hall, mostly deflecting the ladies that his mother sends over for him to entertain, while he exchanges pleasantries with Lord Wesbrook, his closest confident. They had shared living quarters for a year when they had been sent to the Academy for education; after Wes had dumped a pail of water on his head during an impassioned argument, they had become vowed brothers.

Wes came into town early for Blaine’s birthday at Blaine’s begging to provide a distraction from the tedium of polite socialization and he carries news and gossip of their old classmates, so Blaine barely notices the growing commotion around them, until he’s jostled heavily by frightened people apparently fleeing the great hall. “What-what’s going on?”

”I don’t know.” Wes shakes his head in confusion and follows Blaine as they push against the crowd. He points briefly at Wes to direct him to the other side of the hall as he heads for the throne. 

A woman, with short blond hair, stands in front of the throne, a menacing sneer on her face as she glowers at his parents. “I had hoped to receive an apology.” 

His mother’s calm, overly polite smile never alters – Blaine has always admired his mother's composure at whatever surprises show up in her court. “An apology? My lady, I don’t know who you are or how you have been slighted.”

“You don’t know? You don’t know who I am? I am Sue, Sue the Great Fairy, the greatest fairy of all! Perhaps that explains the lack of an invitation, as I was surprised to hear that the prince was hosting a party tonight. A ball in which all of eligible young ladies were to be invited to meet the prince.”

“Any grievance was not intended–” 

“You? You expected an invitation to meet me?” Cooper’s voice booms out as he strolls towards Sue, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. “To dance with me? To, what, marry me? Why would an old hag think that she would have a chance with me?” 

Anger twists the woman’s face. “An old hag! How dare you! Be careful with your tongue, prince! I am as fit to rule as any of those vapid petticoats there and I have more power than you could ever imagine.”

Cooper laughs brightly and pats her cheek. “I like a woman who says her mind. And so convincingly! Perhaps you could be my scribe? Or court jester? I believe we have an opening.” 

Fury twists her face further and it takes all of Blaine’s will not to shrink away from her. “You mock me, Prince, and you will pay.” 

“Oh, please, how many times have I heard that from a woman? What will it cost me? Ten gold pieces? Twenty? William, pay the lady and escort her out. Good evening to you, mistress.” Cooper purposefully turns his back, a grin stretching across his face as he reaches out his hand to a cluster of women clutching each other and trembling. “Did the music stop? Why did the music stop?”

“Son, you should hold your tongue!” His mother rebukes, turning back to Sue. “My son means no–”

“Oh he certainly does. You wish that money could pay me off but Sue does not slink off in defeat! You think you can mock me, and you are sorely mistaken. Nobody insults Sue and gets away with it. Perhaps a pox to that handsome face? Or I could turn you into a yapping spaniel who begs for crumbs.”

“You don’t scare me, Sue.” Cooper’s patented smile doesn’t leave his face but all humor has left his voice. 

“Oh, but I should. I am beyond your worst nightmare. And I think I know just the curse. You, Cooper, son of Andrea, eldest and heir to the throne of Dalton, will fall into a sleep for a hundred years, dreaming of only me. Perhaps by then, when all of your loved ones have withered away and died, you will find me a more acceptable bride.”

She points her long staff at Cooper, who still wears a cocksure smirk on his face. “ _Ex infinity vita est somnus!”_ Blaine watches as the curse strikes Cooper, bending him back as if being struck to the head. His eyes close and he crumples to the ground unconscious, a golden glow surrounding his body. Sue nudges his still body, and seemingly satisfied at her handiwork, smooths her gown and laughs brightly. “That was one of my finest, I do say. So satisfying, like lancing a festering blister.” She preens to the gaping and horror-struck crowd.

A disbelieving silence lingers over the party guests. Blaine pushes forward trying to reach his fallen brother. “Cooper! Coop!” An electric shock forces him back from the golden sphere.

“Ah, ah, no no, Charming. He is mine.”

“You can’t do that! You can’t have him!” He pushes again against the barrier and smarts from the shock. 

Sue yawns widely. “Your resentment is … delicious, but I am bored of this all. I would wish you a good night, but I rather hope that it’s not. Hmmm. Maybe, I’ll make sure that it isn’t!”

Green sparks coalesce around her, and with a sudden boom, she disappears and in her place is a dragon, imposing over the crowd. Shrieks of terror fill the great hall as the guests back away and then flee, pushing and screaming at each other. Blaine stares helplessly at the creature, who make a noise like a laugh, and reaches down to scoop up Cooper into its claws. Cooper doesn’t wake, doesn’t fight, his body flopping bonelessly in deep sleep. 

The castle guards approach, surrounding the dragon with swords raised, but the barrier prevents them from approaching. The dragon watches, its large jaw stretching into what might be imagined as a smile. 

With another boom, the dragon and Cooper are gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine tightens the loop around the window sill and tugs on it. The soft bedding stretches slightly and holds fast – good, it’ll hold his weight. He knots the other end around his waist and very carefully climbs out of the window, his fingers slipping into the small gaps for support.

He supposes on rumination, that it’s a little silly for him at the age of nineteen to be running away. But it has been over two years, two years since he had watched his brother crumple to the ground in a cursed sleep while Sue had cackled madly and enchanted a dragon to carry him away before the guards had time to react. Two years and Cooper was still gone. After the initial pandemonium died down and the in-depth search across the kingdom proved fruitless, his parents had seemed to exist only in their deep grief, resigned to Cooper’s loss. When Blaine had brought up doing a search of his own, his mother had wept for days, lamenting that she couldn’t lose her only remaining son.

Blaine loves his mother. He does. He didn’t dare bring it up again, but he also couldn’t stand doing nothing to find and rescue his brother. For the last year, he had carefully listened to all of the gossip and news, no matter how small and useless it initially appeared, and when that news started to merge into more solid knowledge about where Cooper might have been taken, Blaine broached the subject again and was again rebuked. His parents refused to listen to reason, to his ideas of mounting a rescue, his father yelling at him to think of his mother’s grief as she wailed into the night. He walked out of there stiffly, resolve unchanged. Which led him here to this moment where he climbs out of his window in the early summer night. 

A rustle at the foot of the tower makes him pause half-way down, heart thumping in panic.

“Blaine!”

“Wesbrook? What are you doing here?” 

Wes steps out from the shadows, grabbing on to the fluttering sheet to stabilize it, allowing Blaine to climb easily down the rest of the way. “To see you off, of course.”

Blaine claps his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not here to stop me. Because you won’t be successful.”

“I know, old man. I am well familiar with that stubborn streak of yours. It is also a foolish streak, and I won’t let you leave here unprepared.”

“I have food and a map.” He grumbles, annoyed at the suggestion that he was being foolish.

“And only the shoes on your feet and without a cloak and gloves for when it gets cold. Come.” 

He can barely make out the shape of the horse that waits next to the gate, shod and loaded with leather packs, its black mane and fur blending into the shadows. The horse nickers in recognition when Blaine approaches. “You’re giving me Blackbird? There are other horses in the stable–”

“You know your parents are more likely to come after you if you take one of their prized possessions which is why you were going by foot.”

Blaine acknowledges the fact. His father, in particular, is attached to the herd. “You’ll lose credible deniability if I take yours.” Blaine protests instead. 

“Your parents will forgive me. Sooner than they’ll forgive you, I’m afraid.” Wes replies.

Blaine nods soberly. If he fails in his quest, it is possible that he may not have a home to which to return. Queen Andrea did not take lightly to being disobeyed. “I know. I have to do this. I’ll never forgive myself if I leave Cooper to an unknown fate with that woman.”

Wes hands him a pair of riding gloves and then a long riding cloak, which he helps drape over Blaine’s shoulders. “I am also well familiar with your loyalty. It will serve you well, Blaine.” 

“You could come with me.”

Wes shakes his head a little regretfully. “No, I must stay here. My responsibilities do not allow me time away. Besides, how else will I take over running the kingdom so that your parents forget that they had other sons?” 

Blaine chokes back a small sob in his laugh, as he clasps hands with his friend, bringing him in for an embrace. “You have been a true friend and I rest easier knowing that you are here. I will send word regularly.” 

Wes cups his hands, allowing Blaine to vault easily up into the horse’s saddle. “I will look for you. You will succeed, Prince Blaine, I have trust in your abilities.”

“I hold your trust, brother. Farewell!” He touches his heel to the horse’s flanks, Wes fading into the darkness as they gallop off. 

* * *

By the end of the fourth day, Blaine sits wearily in the saddle, his backside aching and chaffing uncomfortably. Muscles that he never knew existed ache in protest. He’s never thought that he was soft; he keeps active with daily horse rides and fencing and the occasional hunt, but four days sitting upright with legs spread over thick haunches is testing that belief. If he ever were to head out on a rescue mission in the future, he’d add daily lunges to the preparations along with additional pairs of leather pants. 

As expected, the roads are clear, with only a few people traveling back and forth to the city markets. Blaine’s making good time and Blackbird is a trusty ride, alternating between brief canters and steady walks. Closer to the castle, he avoided the main roads in case royal guards had been dispensed, but the further he gets from the city center, the less he worries about being recognized and detained. The landscape gradually changes from city walls and buildings to rolling hills with the fertile soil tilled and recently planted intermixed with denser woods. The distant mountains creep closer each day, taking up more of the horizon. 

Blaine is bored out of his mind. He hadn’t realized how much the castle household had provided him with human interaction and conversation and Blackbird was a poor – and quiet – replacement. When Blaine was little, he had almost believed the stories that those touched by fairy magic could talk to animals. Once, he made friends with the little garden rabbit that would come up and nibble directly out of his hand, its nose twitching encouragingly as he spilled out his little boy troubles. The gardener caught him one day with a fistful of lettuce and sealed the hole where the bunny had slipped through. He hasn’t tried to talk to animals since then until now. Birdy, unfortunately, seems to show inclination to answer back.

Yesterday, facing another endless day, he had seriously contemplated heading back. He thought himself prepared - he had poured over maps and had plotted his path through the surrounding forests. His scouts had informed him of a similar abduction of a young princess in a kingdom not two weeks away by horse and carriage, and there were rumors of a long abandoned castle in the distant moors suddenly with light in the windows. All of that planning now seems inadequate as he has definitely underestimated the loneliness and the unchanging stretch of the road and it takes all of his self-resolve to not turn Birdy around, but he refuses to label his quest a failure already. 

Just before dusk, his horse clops into a small village with nothing more than a tavern, a church, and a town hall. The sign announcing the town, Westerville, is framed with small sparkling lights and he already feels slightly bolstered by the cheerful welcome. He’s been sleeping every night just off the side of the road, with no fire as to not attract attention – bandits were more common closer to the kingdom center, but he had no doubt that a king’s son would be a heady temptation. Now, body aching in protest and mind longing for some conversation, he thinks that he’s far enough from the castle to risk spending the night in the tavern with some hot food and drink. 

The hot bath that the innkeeper draws up is worth the extra silver to the cost of the room; he soaks in the water until his skin prunes and the road-induced ache eases out of his muscles and bones. He might have fallen asleep had it not been for the protests of his stomach overriding his drooping eyelids. 

Downstairs, the bar has livened up with the evening crowd, women and men stopping off for a drink before heading home for the evening, a few families gathered for the evening meal. It’s cozy and bright and Blaine takes a seat by the window, content to observe the surrounding commotion and listen to the idle conversation.

The stew is hot and plentiful, with a thick slice of bread liberally rubbed with butter (that extra coin has coaxed a few amenities) which is the extent of his expectations. The innkeeper stands over him as he eats but, as he wasn’t forthcoming on a lot of details of his travels, drifts off to entertain other customers with looser tongues. 

His senses prick with the din of the background conversation. “Something fishy’s going on up north and it’s making me nervous.”

“Weather’s unsettled too.”

“They still haven’t found that prince, have they?”

“Not that they’ve announced. But who knows with royalty. As far as we know, the prince ran off with the kitchen maid and they invented this story about a spell to distract the populace.”

“My nan was there that night; she swears she saw the prince collapse and the witch just disappeared.” 

“I heard the witch killed the whole royal family and the magistrates are propping up dummies so that we won’t know and revolt.” Blaine snorts at that one and then looks a little nervously. While nobody has shown signs of recognizing him – not unexpected in these rural reaches – he prefers keeping some anonymity. But no one appears to be paying him any attention and he turns back to his stew and ale, carefully listening to the conversation. 

There’s not much that he’s able to tease out from the town gossip, just a general confirmation of a sense of ill winds blowing from the north. “My boy lead a group of knights up north nine months ago and still hasn’t come back. It’s not like him.”

“A blizzard in June. That’s not normal.”

Blaine starts from his thoughts when a blonde woman takes the bench opposite him. She reaches across the table and grabs his tankard of ale, draining the remaining liquid. “That does relieve a parched throat. You shouldn’t listen to them, it might distract you from your true mission.” 

Blaine jerks back. How would she know? He studies the woman carefully. Her long hair is pulled back from her face and she is wearing at least three different mismatching shirts and various necklaces and rings. She doesn’t seem particularly aware that she’s said anything alarming. Her gaze drifts off and she hums mindlessly as she grabs at another tankard sitting on the table next to them. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Blaine questions, although he’s certain that it would be unlikely to forget such a person.

“No. Not yet. At least I don’t think so. Sometimes the circles of time wobble and intersect, though. Is this one of those times?”

He stares at her. “No?”

“I didn’t think so. Lord Tubbington must be keeping them straight today. I’m Brittany Pierce. Pierce because I have the piercing eye of an oracle.”

An oracle. There used to be an oracle that would visit the castle grounds every autumn. Cooper always had his fortune told or cards read but Blaine had never believed the smooth words promising prosperity for another year and she certainly hadn’t been as … odd as this woman. “That’s nice.” 

“I haven’t been an oracle before! Of course, I couldn’t be your Goddess, as you are looking for a God, though you don’t know that yet. Nor the temptress, although I’ve always enjoyed that role. So that leaves me with the mysterious mentor.”

The conversation is making no sense. He smiles politely at her and sets down his spoon. “I must be off to bed.”

“Oh no! I haven’t told you yet what you need to know for your journey.” She grabs his hand and stares intently in his eyes. 

He stills. “What should I know?”

She closes her eyes for a long moment. “Watch out for the shoe.”

He blinks. “Pardon?”

“Your future will change with a twist of a shoe.” Her eyes pop open. “There.”

“There? That’s it?” 

Brittany shrugs. “Visions are seldom as they seem, but they can be handy from time to time.”

He wonders, unfavorably, how she managed to make a living if this was evidence of her fortune-telling skills. “Thank you for the advice, Brittany. I’ll keep it in mind.”

She claps her hands. “Excellent! I wish I could accompany you as it would be so wonderful to be there when you meet your true love. ‘Once upon a dream.’” She sings an old lullaby briefly and waves her hands as if she were dancing. “Maybe next time.”

He nods, hoping this will end the conversation. “Next time. Of course. I must be off now.” He stands and nods again in her direction. “Goodnight.”

“Blaine!” She calls after him. “Be careful of the gang of birds. They are not your friends this time.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and heads up the stairs to his waiting bed. Surely tomorrow will be a little less absurd.

It’s only when he’s upstairs that he realizes that he had never told her his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments make my day. Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. Blaine’s back and shoulders are grateful for the extra cushioning of a real mattress and he muses to himself that he should look for an inn a little more frequently, as a good night of rest has rejuvenated his confidence and he’s almost eager to get back onto the road. 

He whistles as he descends down the stairs in the morning. The porridge is warm and filling but lacking in taste, making him miss Cook Millie’s delicious breakfasts of dumplings and hot meats. He’ll need the nutrients for strength on the road, so he swallows it all without complaint. Thankfully, he doesn’t encounter the strange woman from the previous night - the innkeeper doesn't know anything about her when he inquires and Blaine doesn't press further. She packs him some leftover stew to heat up over a fire and extra cheese and meat for his lunch before he sets off. 

His first day back on the trail goes well enough. He’s rested enough that his kinks have melted away and the scenery becomes more lush as they transition from valleys and fields to rolling hills and thick trees, which starves off his boredom as well. Blackbird seems happy, especially when Blaine takes her on a few gallops in the cool canopy and rubs her down afterwards.

Unfortunately, the following morning takes a turn for the worse. The fine drizzle that greets him when he awakens turns into a steady downpour as soon as he mounts Blackbird and his clothing is soaked within minutes.

The rain continues to drip continuously for the next several hours and Blaine is beyond miserable, his cloak wet and clinging to him, mud flinging from his horse’s hooves to cake him. When he pauses for his midday meal, he’s unable to start the wet wood on fire and the cold bread and cheese turn soggy despite his best efforts to protect them from the elements. Just when he thinks there’s a break in the clouds, another pocket of hard pounding rain convinces him that he will never dry out again. 

He’s entirely discouraged and contemplating turning back to spend another night at Westerville (although rationally he knows that he’ll never make it back before darkness falls), when his horse stumbles slightly, and then comes to a hobbling stop.

“What is it, Birdy?” He strokes the horse’s head and dismounts. Blackbird’s been so well behaved so far; it’s not like the horse to ignore the gentle commands to move. Blaine groans loudly when he picks up the horse’s front hoof and sees the horseshoe warped, nail half-pulled out. Great. Just what his trip needed: an injured horse in the middle of a forest with nary a person around. 

“Fuck!” 

It takes scrounging for a sharp rock to pry the deformed horseshoe off Blackbird’s hoof. Blackbird is much more calm about the procedure than Blaine anticipated, chewing on grass while Blaine strains to remove the nails with the rain dripping down his curls and getting in his eyes. He won’t be able to ride Birdy without a shoe. The road is empty - he hasn’t seen another human being since before midday and the likelihood that anybody else will be traveling this road in the rain seems unlikely. He’ll just have to wait until the rain stops and hope some other traveler stumbles upon him which most likely won’t be until morning. Frustrated, he sets up camp, fighting against gusts of whipped rain to build shelter. He dares not try to make a fire again in the rain, so his supper is cold. It is, at least, dry.

His sleep is fitful, even if his lashed together canvass structure holds out the rain – he’s pretty proud of himself for this one – disturbed by the cold seeping through his sleeping blankets and restless dreams. Cooper is always just beyond reach, shrieking in pain, a sound that transforms into the wind’s moan through the trees when he lurches awake from the claps of thunder, again and again. The storm dies down after a few hours and then gradually blows away. In the residual silence, Blaine finally drops into a dreamless sleep. 

The morning sky is that crystal blue that only comes after storms, with sunbeams filtering through lingering mist and birds loudly chattering in the trees. Blaine contemplates his options. There’s no use going back and, if his maps are accurate, there should be another cluster of homes too small to be called a village several miles down the road. Perhaps there will be another horse that he could rent, although he’ll hate leaving Blackbird behind. Blaine sets off at a slow pace, guiding Blackbird to avoid the sharper rocks in the road. Blackbird, besides favoring her injured hoof, seems almost giddy having her human walking beside her, prancing next to Blaine and nipping his sleeve in affection when Blaine ignores her for too long.

Blaine’s bad mood dissipates with the storm as well. He arranges his leathers on the saddle to dry in the sunshine, and the freedom of walking in just a shirt and breeches is exhilarating. His hair is a mess, caked in dried mud, and the clear beaver pond appearing through the trees is an unexpected delight. After tying Blackbird loosely to a sapling, he strips down and wades into the water, washing mud and road grime from his skin and hair. 

Blaine takes advantage of the shimmering lake to swim a few laps, the water cool against his skin. He floats, his mind drifting as well, brainstorming as he often does of how he can defeat Sue when he meets up with her. Nothing comes to mind – nothing ever does. He’s never tried to take on a witch before, never contemplated ever killing a human. He’s squeamish at the thought, his mind skipping to other topics whenever he attempts to think about it too deeply. 

Before long, the tug of his quest urges him back on the road. He feels guilt with every luxury that delays his journeys, as each delay extends Cooper’s captivity, and Blaine sighs regretfully as he rises out of the water. 

He’s rinsing out his clothes, when a distance murmur of a voice stops him. He looks around, trying to pinpoint the location. There, just beyond the next cluster of trees, he can see a figure pacing back and forth. Perhaps, just perhaps, luck is shining on him and this person might know a nearby farrier. Blaine dresses quickly, his wet shirt clinging a little uncomfortably to his chest and back, tugs on his boots, and leads Blackbird to the clearing. 

The man, tall and lithe with fine features, doesn’t seem to notice Blaine standing at the edge as he dances on light feet in the circle of willow trees, singing to himself. Blaine doesn’t recognize the dance or song but he strains to listen, as this man’s voice is beautiful, high and clear and rich with emotion. He moves in an intricate pattern from tree to tree, hands drawing patterns in the air to the rhythm of his song. The last note rings out in perfect pitch and, for a second, echoes across the clearing, while he reaches up to the sky as if in benediction. Blaine can’t look away, so taken in by this sudden vision of graceful beauty.

Blackbird chooses that moment to snort and stamp her foot impatiently and the man startles at the sudden interruption, his song breaking abruptly. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Blaine walks towards the man with a friendly smile, holding his hands open. “We have not been introduced. I am Blaine. Blaine Andrea-” he coughs to hide his slip – his matriarchal name is too easily identifiable – “Blaine Anders and I’m afraid that my horse has thrown a shoe. Would you happen to know of a blacksmith nearby?”

The man stares dumbly at him as if he doesn’t understand. Blaine falters, and lowers his hand. “I fear I have disturbed you. My apologies again.” He tips his head.

“Who are you?” His speaking voice is as clear as his singing, but Blaine can’t read the tone. 

“Blaine. I’ve been traveling all day and my horse’s shoe came loose in the rain yesterday. I’m lucky he didn’t throw me.” 

“But who are you? What are you doing here?”

Blaine scratches at his chin. He’s never been good at lying, but he’s not trusted anybody so far with his identity. “Just a… I’m on a mission and got caught here.” 

The man’s frown deepens, eyes crystal blue in hardness and mistrust. “You’re on a mission?” His eyes track up and down Blaine’s body. 

Blaine flushes. He must look like a sight with his wet clothes and curls that must be wild and unkempt. “Yes.” 

“To do what?”

Blaine flattens a hand across his curls, trying to give them some semblance of control. “I… to rescue an enchanted prince. It’s a long story, and I need to get my horse-”

“You must leave.” The man announces abruptly, his body language and voice forbidden any argument. 

Blaine takes a step back, startled by the man’s tone. While obviously trespassing on this man’s time and generosity, he thinks that he has been polite enough for some direction. “I promise you, despite my appearance, I am no vagabond. My apologies again, sir. Good day.” He grabs Blackbird’s reins and turns back to the road, annoyed at the lack of hospitality. 

He hasn’t gone more than a few steps before he hears the man gasp loudly and run after him. “Wait, wait. Who did you say you were?”

“Blaine. From Dalton.”

“Blaine. From Dalton. What- what help did you need?”

“As I said, it’s my horse.” Blaine replies slowly.

Kurt nods and his face relaxes with a small smile. “I’m sorry. I- my father- my father lives just down the road here. He’s a blacksmith and can shoe your horse for you.” 

Blaine blinks at the sudden change of heart. “Are you–? That is most fortuitous and I would be grateful, sir.” 

The man finally extends his hand, and Blaine can’t help but admire the firm grip and slender fingers. “Kurt. My name is Kurt. Come, there’s a shortcut around the pond.” He tugs on Blaine’s hand and leads him deeper into the woods, away from the road. 

Kurt doesn’t say much, just asks him a few questions about Blackbird and the thrown shoe. He no longer seems distrustful of Blaine, but he still seems troubled and keeps looking at Blaine pensively. Blaine opens his mouth once or twice to ask him but he doesn’t know Kurt and his manners prevent from probing further. 

It’s not long before they break through the trees to see a small house next to a barn and smithy. Kurt marches swiftly into the smithy, shaking the shoulder of an older man working at the anvil. “Da. Da!”

The older man jumps, before carefully placing the hammer down. “Watch it, Kurt! What’ve I told you, you can’t startle me like that.”

“This is Blaine. He found me in the forest and he says that his horse has thrown a shoe.” Kurt introduces them.

“In the forest?” The older man questions, looking sharply at his son.

Kurt shakes his head slightly, communicating something to his father that Blaine can’t pick out. “Yes. He’s on a mission and I told him that you could help him.”

“Alright.” The man gets up and appraises him closely, wiping his hands on a cloth before extending one out. “Burt Hummel. You got a lame horse?” 

“Ah, yes, sir. She threw a shoe yesterday in the storm. I was able to get it off, but she needs a new one before we can continue on.” He replies politely.

Burt picks up Birdy’s hoof and inspects it. “You got all the nails out, that’s good and there’s no damage to the hoof wall. I gotta finish this wagon up today for the watermelon harvest, but I could get a new one on her by morning.”

It’s not as much of a delay as Blaine had feared. He counts out coins and hands them over to the blacksmith. “Greatly appreciated, sir.”

Burt pockets the coins before peering at him closer. “You got a place to stay tonight?”

“Oh, Blackbird and I have just been setting up camp by the road.” Blaine nods to his pack on the saddle.

“After the rain we had yesterday, nobody wants to sleep on that soggy ground. Stay for supper and we can get ya set up on the spare bed.”

“Da.” Kurt starts.

“Kurt, it won’t be a problem adding an extra spot for supper. And maybe Blaine can tell us a little more ‘bout himself, and we can give him a hand. Like neighbors do.” The two seem to have a silent communication that makes Blaine uncomfortable. 

“If it’s an inconvenience–” 

“It’s not.” Kurt answers bluntly, and then softens his tone. “Really. My stepmother should be home shortly and we’ll sup then. As my father said, there’s enough for you to join. Please.” 

The Hummel home radiates warmth from the moment Blaine crosses the threshold. Kurt helps him drape his clothes in front of the hearth so that they’ll dry and offers him another shirt to wear and Blaine blushes as he does up the buttons. At Blaine’s insistence, Kurt puts him to work chopping vegetables. “It’s not much, just a rabbit stew. We weren’t expecting company.”

Blaine laughs, trying to ease the man’s embarrassment. “I’ve been on the road eating bread and dried meat for a week. Stew sounds wonderful.” 

Kurt doesn’t say much initially during the meal preparation, but for being virtually strangers, the silence doesn’t feel stifling. Instead, Blaine’s surprised as how comfortable the atmosphere is between the two of them . They work well together, with enticing smells wafting from the pots as the meal cooks. Blaine’s stomach rumbles in anticipation and Kurt’s laugh seems to thaw any lingering barriers so that conversation flows between them. 

Kurt, Blaine finds out, works about a day’s walk from here but has recently returned home for a visit as his father has been ill. “He’s doing much better and as long as he doesn’t insist on visiting all of the ailing widows over the winter and catching their head colds, he should be to full strength soon.” He’s vague on what he does, but so is Blaine, dancing around questions about his home life. He can’t tell if Kurt picks up on his evasiveness; Kurt doesn’t press and neither does Blaine.

Carole, Burt’s wife, returns an hour later and warmly greets Blaine as if she isn’t the slightest bit surprised at his presence. It’s loud and loving in their cottage, and nothing like any of the dining experiences with his family, usually attended by dignitaries and conducted with decorum. 

The fragrant stew is delicious, hearty and bursting with flavor, and Blaine nearly moans as he swallows spoonful after spoonful. Kurt’s cheeks pink with the praise. 

“Blaine here says that he’s on a quest.” Burt informs his wife. 

“Indeed? What kind of quest?”

Blaine blushes as he stumbles through his excuse. “It’s nothing, ma’am. The prince of Dalton was cursed a few years ago, and I’m one of many who seek his return.”

“We haven’t had any knights come through here for many moons, have we, Burt?” Carole mused, dipping her bread into the stew. “For a while, there was one stopping by every night or two, but it’s been quiet for so long now. I had rather thought that he had returned home, but I suppose that news would reach us even out here.”

Burt nods in agreement. “Nobody was able to find him; guess the interest died down.”

“Why the renewed interest?” Kurt questions, his eyes intent on Blaine.

“I… there’s been some new information filtering in, places that people weren’t looking before. I thought I’d poke around a bit.” 

“What makes you think you’ll be successful?” Kurt presses. “He was bewitched, wasn’t he? How do you plan on breaking the enchantment?”

“So many questions,” Carole laughs lightly. “Don’t feel like you have to divulge all of your plans.” 

Blaine shrugs. “I don’t know that I will be successful. Nobody has, but I’ve prepared as I could. I know nothing about magic or enchantments, but there’s always a weakness and I have to try.”

“Is there a reward?” Kurt questions again. His tone isn’t exactly angry, just inquisitive and insistent. 

“Honestly, Kurt.” Burt exclaims, exasperatedly.

“There’s no reward. I’m not in it for the money.” 

“Then why are you doing it?” Kurt speaks firmly over the rising cacophony of voices from his parents. 

“Because his family misses him!” Blaine states, passionately. “Because he’s alone and goodness knows what she is doing to him and I can’t just leave him to suffer!” 

Kurt argues back, “And your family will miss you should you fail! Why is it up to you to fix all of the earth's ills? Plenty of people suffer. Will you attempt to save them all?”

This certainly isn’t how he anticipated the conversation going. “No. I can’t save them all, although I would hope that I would do what I could to alleviate their suffering. I know Prince Cooper, and I kept waiting for somebody else to free him and they never did. I’m able and strong, I’ve studied and prepared. I might fail, but if not me, then who?”

Kurt stands up abruptly and stalks over to the hearth, grabbing at a poker to retrieve the kettle. Carole hands Blaine a refilled bowl of stew. “You’ll have to excuse Kurt his bluntness, it comes from a deep sense of protectiveness.”

At Blaine’s curious look, Kurt elaborates. “My brother left us to make his fortune two years ago. He never returned. His letters stopped over a year ago.”

“We’ve never received official word, but he likely,” Carole chokes, “has died and we’ll never know how or why.”

“I’m so sorry.” Blaine murmurs in sympathy.

“Finn’s a good man,” Burt says, “and he made the right choices with the information he had.”

“He left you alone at the smithy, Da. He could have been here helping you and you wouldn’t have been injured.”

“He had the same right to leave as you did. I don’t begrudge either of you trying to make this world your own.” 

Kurt shakes his head. It’s obviously an old argument that has been rehashed multiple times. “I should have been here, too.”

“Now, you know that’s not the truth. Your studies are important and you’re headed back to them soon.”

“Not until you’re healed.”

“I’m healed enough now and you know it. Will’s lad was here today, you remember him, Carole, little Danny. He used to come round here before he could talk and help me with the bellows. He’s twelve now and I’ve offered to apprentice him.”

Carole squeezes her husband's hand. “Oh, Burt, what a wonderful opportunity. He’s a good boy and will love working with you.”

“It’ll only be a couple hours a day for now. I think it will work out well for all of us, including you.” He looks pointedly at his son. “You’ve been dawdling around, Kurt, anxious to get back and it’s enough to upset the horses.”

Blaine’s only known this family for a few hours but their love for each other is evident, especially in Kurt’s soft expression as he gathers the dirty plates and squeezes his father’s shoulder. Kurt slides back into his seat with the teapot. He pours a cup of tea and hands it over to Blaine with an apology. “I was hasty in my judgement and had no right.” 

Their fingers touch. Blaine wraps his hands around the cup, feeling more than the warmth of the tea spreading across his face. “I took no offense.”

Carole smiles at him encouragingly. “Tell us more about your plans, Blaine. Perhaps we can assist.” 

The evening that passes is one of the most enjoyable of Blaine’s memories - the Hummels are interested in Blaine’s plans and supply him with information not conveyed on his maps, and as the sun shadows fade away, they light candles and play cards. Carole, surprisingly, is a keen competitor, preying on any perceived weakness. Kurt’s as intense as his stepmother and the two of them team up against Burt and Blaine who throw their hands down in defeat. Something in Blaine yearns for this close connection and he wishes that he could spend more time with them. His parents love him, he knows this, but their relationship tends to be formal even in privacy and they spend more time correcting faults rather than just enjoying each other’s company. 

After the fire has died down and Burt and Carole excuse themselves for the evening, Kurt leads him up the stairs to the small room in the attic. “It’s not much, but it should be clean.” His hands fidget as he waits for Blaine to survey the room.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Just like the rest of the Hummels’ residence, the room is homey and cozy, with a cheerful blanket on the bed. 

“It was Finn’s.” Kurt admits, lost in memories. “When our parents married, Finn moved up here. He loved having the attic space to himself - I think in some ways it was harder for Finn to lose that only child status than me and the two of us didn’t get each other in the beginning, so this was his place. Although, when Da caught him up here with Rachel once, he made Finn sleep in the kitchen for a month.”

“You must miss him greatly.”

“Yes.” Kurt answers simply. “I do. Sleep well, Blaine.” He slips away, leaving Blaine with a swirl of emotions that he can’t sort out. 

Blaine awakens early the following morning, his troubled thoughts left behind. Kurt and Burt are already in the forge and it’s Carole who greets him with coffee and a steaming roll, before she leaves to attend to her duties as village healer. “Fanny’s child will be here within a fortday and little Edmund’s arm isn’t healing properly.” She cheerfully gives him a hug on his way out, with well wishes on his journey. “Stop by on your return. We’d love to have you again.” 

The smithy is surprisingly empty and Blaine crosses the courtyard in search of the Hummel men. He finds them in the barn, holding Blackbird’s foot up, deep in conversation. “You sure about this, son?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I caused this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but it is my responsibility. Carmen will know what to do. She can fix my mistake and nobody will be the wiser.”

“Things rarely work out so smoothly, you know.”

“I am aware.” Kurt replies wryly. 

“Just… be careful, kid. Keep things close and mind your business.”

“It won’t be long, I promise. A week at the most and then I’ll be back.”

“I told you, I’m doing well enough.”

“And I told you- Blaine! Good morning! How did you sleep?” Kurt looks up and smiles at him, a dark smudge of soot across his cheek. Blaine gives himself a mental nudge from the temptation to reach across and wipe his cheek. It’s a good thing he is leaving today. Kurt is a distraction that he can’t allow himself to think about. 

“Never better. Thank you again for your hospitality.” 

Burt shrugs from where he’s holding Birdy’s leg. “It’s nothing. We’re fitting this gal’s shoe now, she should be ready to go in an hour. The other shoe was also coming loose, so I’ve pounded it back on. Just a little bit longer and she’ll be right as rain. She’s such a patient girl, yes, she is.” Burt coos. 

Blaine rubs Blackbird's nose in greeting and she nudges at his chest with a blissful snort, obviously delighting in the attention despite the discomfort in her leg. “‘Lo, old girl. Did you miss me? Are you getting some new shoes?” Blaine runs his hands over the horse’s shiny black neck, grateful that he’s not having to say goodbye to her this time. He pours a small pile of grains for her breakfast while rubbing her down and tightening the saddle. The Hummels make no attempt to return to their previous conversation and Blaine is polite enough not to probe before he heads back into the house to grab his packs.. 

When he returns, Blackbird is bridled and ready, patiently waiting in the lingering morning mist. Blaine glances around the little valley as he throws his packs on, making sure the food that Carole had left him was easily accessible. He’s been here for less than a day, but it feels like home and he’s going to miss the Hummels and their warm hospitality. He lifts Birdy’s legs to inspect the work. The shoes are neatly placed, clinched on appropriately, and should travel safely for the rest of his journey. 

Blaine turns to the sound of hooves clomping across the ground to see Kurt, leading a tall, speckled cream horse over to them, also saddled and bridled. Kurt has changed into tight riding breeches and Blaine’s momentarily distracted how they accentuate his long legs. “This is Pavarotti.” Kurt announces. “I was hoping that I might tag along?”

“What? Why?” Blaine’s thrown by the unexpected request. 

“You need a guide.”

“I have maps.” Blaine argues. They had discussed the maps in detail the previous night and all had agreed that they were mostly accurate. 

“I know the area better than a map and I’m better prepared for the elements.” Kurt counters. “It’ll be a safer journey with two of us. You know that’s true, I don’t understand why you haven’t journeyed with others before this. My father has declared himself well enough and no longer needs me. I think you do.”

“I— It could be dangerous.”

“True. I’ll be sure to abandon you before it comes to that.”

Blaine laughs at the unexpected joke. The thought of getting to know Kurt better is certainly a pleasant one, even though he strongly suspects that he’ll be fighting off more of those distracting thoughts. “Are you sure?”

Kurt nods, hands gripping Pavarotti’s reins tightly. “Positive. I have some business of my own and it would be beneficial to combine our journey.”

Blaine acquiesces. “Then I value your companionship. The Prince will reward you if we are successful, I am sure-”

“You aren’t the only one who has motives besides money, Blaine.” Kurt chides lightly and Blaine holds his hands up in surrender. “Point taken.”

Blaine looks away when Burt comes out of the forge to say goodbye and Kurt throws himself into his father’s arms for a long moment. Burt’s eyes are shiny when he clasps Blaine on the shoulder and his voice gruff as he tells them to stay safe.

Blaine swings on Blackbird and touches her haunches lightly with his heel. Together, he and Kurt ride silently away, leaving the cozy hamlet behind in the mist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudoing, and commenting!


	4. Chapter 3

Kurt proves to be a fantastic companion on the road. The hours pass much more freely, now that Blaine has somebody to talk with. Conversation is light and varied, as Kurt is knowledgeable on a vast number of subjects and as eager to talk as Blaine. Kurt points out various foliage and wildlife, details that Blaine had overlooked travelling alone. His first few days on the road, Blaine’s not sure that he had even seen a mouse, but now, rabbits, deer, and birds of all kinds come out from the greenery. Blackbird seems to want to be friends with all of them, and Blaine has to keep a tight rein to prevent her from sniffing them all out. 

Even with stopping frequently to feed and rest their horses, and a brief respite near a small creek where Kurt pulls out a fishing rod from his packs and hands it to Blaine, the mountains creep steadily closer. By the time they stop to set up supper and camp under their looming shadows, the heat of the day has begun to dissipate. 

“We should be safe for a fire tonight.” Kurt surveys. “This isn’t a place usually inhabited by bandits and it’ll get cold tonight when the sun sets. Would you mind gathering some wood and I’ll try to locate my flint? I know I stuck it in my pack. The question is where.” 

Blaine wanders off while Kurt is muttering to himself. It takes some time collecting branches and decaying wood, so he’s a little short of breath when he comes back to camp. He’s surprised to find a good blaze going and Kurt perched over the flames, stuffing potatoes into the burgeoning coals. “Found the flint!” Kurt announces proudly. “Hot potatoes tonight with our fish?”

“You’ve got a magic touch with the fire. I wasn’t able to get more than a smolder when I tried.”

Kurt preens at the praise. “My da would never have forgiven me if I didn’t know how to make a fire and skin a chicken. Sit, the food won’t take long.”

Dusk descends as they eat and talk comfortably and transforms into deep darkness by the time Blaine stretches and goes off to corral the grazing horses for the evening. They’ve wandered slightly away from camp, but come easily to his voice. He gives Blackbird another pat, while Pavarotti nips at his pants in search for additional treats. “Oh, I see how it’s going to be,” he murmurs as he rubs down the other horse as well and slips them both another handful of grains. “Spoiled, the both of you.” He secures both sets of reins to the branches to prevent them from wandering off and slings his packs off of Birdy’s back on his shoulders.

Kurt’s banked the fire to warm coals, and Blaine rolls his blankets out in front. He’s enjoyed the last couple of nights of sleeping on soft mattresses, and his body already wants to protest at lying again on the ground. 

A branch snaps as Kurt returns, his own belongings piled high in his arms. Blaine stares in surprise - how had Kurt managed to pack everything up so tightly? 

“That’s it? That’s what you plan to sleep with tonight?” Kurt questions as he approaches the fire. 

“Yes?” Blaine replies, slightly stung at the rebuke, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, if you intend to be an icicle by morning. The mountains are cold and you’ll never stay warm.”

Blaine stares at his paltry, thin blankets a little more morosely, remembering the night spent shivering in the dripping cold. “I’ll put on additional clothes.” 

“Nonsense.” Kurt drops his piles on top of Blaine’s makeshift bed. “My blankets and yours are enough for the both of us if we share. We’ll put yours down first and I’ve got a thick wool one to go on top. Maybe we’ll feel less of the rocks.” Kurt states matter of factly as he straightens out the blankets. He pauses, looking away from Blaine. “Unless, of course, this makes you uncomfortable. We can keep our separate beds, I just presumed–.”

“No, no. That would be fine. It’s fine. Great, even.” He doesn’t know why his heart pounds so in his chest. He slept beside Cooper whenever he happened to be home and not gallivanting around. He and Wesbrook shared a bed for months at school, but this feels different. He peels off his pants, leaving on his shirt for sleep and crawls between the blankets, shivering a little in the cooling air. Kurt’s right - the additional blankets provide much needed padding. He looks up to see that Kurt has changed into a long bedshirt, feet and neck bare in the dying light. His mouth goes dry and he looks away quickly, squeezing his eyes closed. 

He feels Kurt slide in beside him and he holds himself taut. Kurt’s body radiates warmth and comfort and in response, slowly, Blaine feels his body loosen, his muscles unclench, and he relaxes next to Kurt. “Goodnight, Blaine,” Kurt murmurs. Kurt’s breathing slows, regular and deep, helps relax him further and before he knows it, Blaine follows Kurt into slumber.

* * *

Kurt fidgets in his saddle, staring straight ahead, and Blaine sighs. He’s adjusted to sleeping next to Kurt these last few days, too well, really, as this morning he had awoken cuddling next to Kurt - next to Kurt was an understatement, as he was nearly entirely draped over him. Kurt had been magnanimous about it, politely disentangling himself and asking Blaine how he slept. But it had obviously bothered him more than he had said, given his silence this morning on the trail. Blaine’s heart sinks. He’ll insist on separating their sleeping packs tonight, make sure that Kurt’s not uncomfortable in his presence, do whatever he can to make this right.

Kurt clears his throat. “I have friends who live up ahead, that I would like to call on. It’s not much of a detour from the main road, and we could sup with them. If you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Of course,” Blaine says, surprised and relieved. “I would be honored to meet your friends.” 

Kurt smiles and his shoulders relax. “I should probably warn you that they can be quite overwhelming. They are kind and well-meaning, but can come on strongly.”

Blaine laughs. “Sounds like my brother. Consider me warned.”

Kurt tells him more about his friends as they continue to plod their way through the mountain valley. “Rachel is nearest to my sister. She and Finn - at one time they were intended for each other, childhood sweethearts, and after he disappeared… well, it’s been hard, but she is healing.” Kurt smiles fondly. “She is still insufferable to be around for long periods of time, particularly if you have a fondness for music.” 

He laughs again at the warning. “I do, but I will make sure to avoid that conversation.”

“Mercedes is probably my closest confidant, my dearest friend. I’ve known her since we were children. And Santana improves on closer association - she’s more teeth than actual bite and she is loyal to her soul.” 

“They sound lovely.”

“They’re like family.” Kurt says, “with all of the flaws that that entails.”

Blaine looks around. “This is a long distance from your home.”

Kurt twitches. “Yes, well, they are here for schooling. Madame Carmen Tibideaux is the headmistress here; she’s well-renowned and respected around these parts.”

“I see.” Blaine has no time for additional questions, as they turn a corner and a large house, framed with blooming roses, appears. 

“I sent word ahead that we were coming,” Kurt explains as they dismount. Blaine only has a brief moment to wonder when and how as he had been riding next to Kurt all morning, when the door opens and three women, approximately their own age, tumble out.

“Kurt!” One of them calls out brightly before giving him a long embrace. “We weren’t expecting you back until autumn.”

“Carmen says you have news!”

“News? Kurt here has bought himself a toy.” Another drawls and she deliberately drags her gaze across Blaine’s body. He blushes and looks away. 

Kurt’s tone is just a little hauty. “I have not. Blaine, may I introduce you to my friends, Mercedes, Rachel, and Santana?”

“Ladies, my pleasure.” He dips his head towards each of them in greeting. Mercedes gives a little giggle. 

“Blaine?” The one named Rachel questions, looking at him closely, and then suddenly drops into a curtsy, dropping her eyes to the ground. “Oh, forgive me, your Highness, I didn’t recognize you at first.”

Blaine’s stomach twists with the recognition and he feels paralyzed in place.

“What are you doing, Rachel?” 

“Kurt,” she hisses from deep in her curtsy, “why didn’t you tell us that you were traveling with the Prince of Dalton?” Beside her, Mercedes and Santana also drop their knees, and Santana’s smirk is replaced with one of fear. 

“Because I’m not,” Kurt argues back. He smiles and rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at Blaine, who is still frozen. He doesn’t return Kurt’s smile, just opens his mouth and closes it without saying anything. 

“You are telling me that that man,” she points without lifting her eyes from the dirt, “is not Prince Blaine Andreason?” 

None of them have lifted from their bow, and Blaine’s training sets in automatically. “You may rise.” He commands, and cringes at the formality. He hasn’t missed this part of his life. 

Confusion and then realization settles on Kurt’s brow. “It’s true. You’re- you’re- It’s true.”

Blaine shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “Yes.” 

“You. You never- you never told me.”

“It never came up.”

“Never came up?” Kurt starts to say, then tightly closes his mouth. Blaine knows Kurt well enough by now to recognize the anger radiating from his expression. “Oh.” 

“Kurt-”

“No worries, your Highness. If you’ll pardon me, your Highness, I need to meet with the Headmistress, Madame Tibideaux. My friends will show you to the parlor, but we weren’t expecting royalty.”

“Kurt, wait-” But Kurt bends in a bow and stocks off and Blaine is left there, staring after Kurt, wondering how it all went so wrong so quickly.

Mercedes touches his arm, her face warm and gentle. “Why don’t you come inside, your Highness?”

“Blaine,” he corrects hoarsely. “Please, _please_ , call me Blaine.” 

“Blaine,” she says, “come inside. Kurt will cool off eventually and then you can talk. In the meantime, Rachel made some cookies and they’re actually edible.” 

“My cookies are always delicious!”

“They’re really not,” Mercedes whispers as she takes his arm and leads him inside.

* * *

Blaine can’t keep his knee from shaking as he sits and drinks tea with Mercedes and Rachel. It’s been over an hour and Kurt has not returned. Mercedes and Rachel are friendly although formal, engaging him in conversation, while his mind swirls in agony. He’s only known Kurt for a few days, but it’s felt longer, and he considers Kurt a friend and the thought of causing him pain, even unwittingly – if only he could explain, make him understand.

“The parties at Dalton must be quite impressive.” Rachel remarks, “And the music! One always hears such things about the music! Would you agree, Prince Blaine?”

He’s stirred from his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“What are the parties like?” Rachel asks, stirring her tea and leaning forward with interest. She lays her fingers against his arm. “They must be magnificent.” 

“Probably not as magnificent or as frequent since the Crown Prince disappeared.” Mercedes hissed with a pointed look at Rachel. 

“Oh. Right.” Rachel looks abashed. 

“No, not frequent, but my mother still hosts different dignitaries. I mean-” There’s a clatter down the stairs and Kurt appears in the doorway. “Kurt!” He stands up, brushing off Rachel’s lingering touch, barely paying her any mind. 

“Prince Blaine.” He bows stiffly.

“Blaine. It’s just Blaine. Kurt, please, let me explain.” He starts and then stops when another woman enters the room. Tall and older than the others, she possesses instant authority and grace. She serenely greets him. “Your Highness.”

“Madame Tibideaux.” He rises and smoothly kisses her hand. “Blaine, if you will.”

She smiles in response, warmth in her dark eyes. “Blaine. Master Hummel has told me that you are on a quest to find the enchanted prince.” She gestures for him to sit beside her at the table. Kurt stands in the doorway, his handsome face stiff and emotionless. 

“My brother.” Blaine nods, for the first time, the story spilling out, no longer needing to conceal the details. “Yes. Three years ago, a fairy by the name of Sue cast a spell on my brother and put him to sleep. I was young and unable to stop her. I haven’t seen him since. Nobody has. We sent out soldiers to search for him and it’s been fruitless.”

“So you decided to go out on your own.” Madame probes, as she pours herself a cup of tea. 

Blaine glances up again at Kurt, who is still unmovable. “Yes, ma’am. I talked with some of the returning soldiers and pieced together some ideas of where he might be. Most of it rumors, but the rumors started to solidify.”

“Why didn’t your parents send a new group of scouts out?”

“My parents… were quite despondent with Cooper’s disappearance and with each bit of news that didn’t pan out, they became more so. I couldn’t get their hopes again.” Blaine explains. “I had hoped that I could locate her and gather some more information, and if I couldn’t rescue him, well, at least I would be able to form a rescue party.” 

“Her name is Sue?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“What do you know about her?”

“Not much. My brother was not her first enchantment, nor her last, according to what I’ve heard.”

“Sue was always a collector.” Madame Tibideaux muses, sipping thoughtfully on her tea.

Blaine looks at her, startled. “You know her?” This was the first inkling of first hand experience of Sue and hope blooms in his chest. 

“I am… aware of her, yes. She grew up here and we were classmates, you could say, long ago.” Madame stirs her tea. “I had heard rumors of a fairy causing troubles, but had not realized that it was her. I have not seen her for many years.”

He deflates in disappointment. 

“Cheer up, Prince, I may still have some information that will be beneficial to you. She was very predictable back then, she likely still is. Why don’t we discuss this over some supper? You must be famished from your journey.” 

Kurt’s quiet through the meal and avoids looking directly at Blaine. It gnaws on him, this need to make Kurt understand. Madame Tibideaux does have some helpful advice, including confirming the location of the northern castle on Blaine’s map, and some tips (“Her temper is her weakest point. By all means, avoid offending her.”), but with Kurt continuing to ignore him, he has difficulty concentrating on the advice. Kurt slips away prior to the clearing of the supper dishes from the table and Blaine relies on all of his years of decorum training to keep the frustration from bleeding into his conversation. 

Blaine accepts Madame Tibideaux’s invitation to stay the night - without Kurt, he will be relying only on his maps again, and there’s part of him that hopes to find Kurt and get a chance to explain and everything will be alright again. Those hopes fade as Kurt stays away that evening. Mercedes is a charming conversationalist, feeding him tidbits about her friendship with Kurt. Rachel hangs on to every word that he says, peppering him with questions about court life. Santana, he can’t make out - she alters between sarcastic quips and questions of his intentions and motives, but she seems to soften towards him by the end of the evening.

“Do you sing, your Highness?” Blaine has given up getting Rachel to call him by his name. “We are so bereft of entertainment these days and your speaking voice seems very fine.”

“I do. I enjoy it but I never received any formal training.”

Rachel claps her hands. “Then I insist that you duet with me! Are you familiar with “Fare Thee Well?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Santana will accompany us - she is excellent on the piano. Her voice is quite good too; not as good as mine, of course, but you would enjoy dueting with her. And with Mercedes.” She adds at Mercedes’s protests. 

> _Fare thee well my own true love_   
> _And farewell for a while._   
> _I’m going away, but I’ll come again_   
> _If I go ten thousand miles._
> 
> _Ten thousand miles, my own true love,_   
> _Ten thousand miles or more,_   
> _And the rocks may melt and the seas may burn,_   
> _If I should not return._
> 
> _Oh don’t you see that lonesome dove,_   
> _Sitting on an ivy tree,_   
> _She’s weeping for her own true love_   
> _Just as I shall weep for mine._
> 
> _Oh come back my own true love_   
> _And stay a while with me_   
> _For if I had a friend all on this earth,_   
> _You’ve been a friend to me._
> 
> _And fare thee well my own true love_   
> _And farewell for a while._   
> _I’m going away, but I’ll be back_   
> _If I go ten thousand miles._

Rachel’s voice is flawless, smoothly harmonizing with his own. She slides her hand down his arm and gazes into his eyes intently. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to do something so frivolous and freeing and Blaine enjoys himself, playing up the romance, leaning into the feel of the sound of their voices and the emotion of the song. 

Rachel claps her hands when they finish. “That was incredible! Prince Blaine, you have a marvelous voice. Surely you must find it stifling to have such talent suppressed. It’s an outrage! You must duet with Mercedes and Santana, and then I have another song that will mix our voices in perfection.” She squeezes his arm and drags him over to the piano, barely letting him get a word in. 

His eyes catch movement in the doorway. Blaine glances up to see the tall, stiff back of Kurt retreating into the shadows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place vaguely in the past, in the time where you think most Fairy Tales take place. That didn't stop me from researching all about Regency and Victorian menswear to make it accurate. Men often would sleep naked or with their day clothes, but this era started to see more in terms of sleep clothes. Kurt, in particular, would be all about the latest fashion of a "bedshirt" (think Ebenezer Scrooge). He probably would have packed a "Banyan robe" as well. Around this time, they started to wear more underwear (very similar to our boxers these days, but often, they just wore long linen shirts that they would tuck into their pants.  
> See [here](http://historicalhussies.blogspot.com/2010/03/regency-mens-clothing-pants-breeches.html) and [here](https://www.kristenkoster.com/a-primer-on-regency-era-mens-fashion/) for more inspiration. 
> 
> "Fare Thee Well" is an 18th century English ballad which was a popular duet song. Mary Chapin Carpenter covered a gorgeous version that you should listen to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQBpDkVUEco.
> 
> **
> 
> I adore your comments. Thanks so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 4

Blaine doesn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning well into the early morning hours. His mind cycles through ideas about how to fix things with Kurt, ruminating on how he can get him to listen and forgive him. The idea of finishing this trek alone is depressing - he’s known Kurt for less than a week, but it feels much longer, and Blaine values the companionship and expertise that Kurt has provided - and now he’ll have to go on alone. It’s the thought that he’ll likely never see Kurt again that causes the most grief. They live great distances from each other, navigate in very different circles, but Blaine had been naive enough to think that they could somehow maintain a connection after all of this had finished. They had become friends these last few days, walking or riding side by side. Good friends, or so Blaine had thought. And now, it seemed unlikely that Kurt would ever talk to him again. His dreams when he finally falls asleep are fractured and when the morning light breaks through the window, he’s unable to remember them clearly in his exhaustion.

Kurt is absent again when Blaine enters the warm kitchen, fragrant with sizzling meats and bread for breakfast. There are strangers bustling around, a half dozen young teenagers carrying platters ladened with food and staring at Blaine with unabashed curiosity. Mercedes shoos them away, dragging Blaine to the kitchen table where she places a filled plate in front of him. “Sit and eat,” she encourages. 

Blaine wants to ask about Kurt and whether he’s around but he thinks twice about it, sure that the answer will be that Kurt had gotten up early and had left to return to his father’s cottage, thereby avoiding Blaine forever. The words cling in his throat as he swallows around the sticky bun, so instead he listens to Mercedes introducing him to the inner workings of the small commune. “The students live in that building over there, but they all rotate here on kitchen duties. Most of the classes are held upstairs. Jane is our newest student, she’s been here only for a couple of weeks, but she’s settling in. I think she’s caught the eye of Mason - he’s one of the twins over there, the dark haired ones. Madison’s his sister and they are hardly ever seen apart, so it’s already causing some drama.”

“Kurt didn’t tell me much about the school. What are you learning?”

Mercedes pauses in her dialogue. “He didn’t mention it?”

“No, I don’t think so?” Blaine thinks back and shakes his head. “He certainly respects Madame Tibideaux and her wisdom but I thought he knew her through Rachel. Until you mentioned Mason, I had assumed that this was a finishing school or something. Was Kurt a student here, too?”

“...Yes, yes, he was.” She replies deliberately. “To answer your question, this school focuses on the individual strengths and weaknesses, so every student’s curriculum might look a little different.” 

“What’s your focus?” Blaine asks and he doesn’t think he’s imagining Mercedes’s hesitation before answering.

“I suppose education would be the best description. Madame is training me to be a teacher like her.”

Mercedes carries an air of helpful mentor with excessive patience that would attract students’ trust. “That would suit you,” he nods. “Would you stay here or start a school of your own?”

She laughs lightly. “I still have years to go before I’ll be making any of those decisions!”

The conversation drifts to other topics about the day to day functions of the school before Blaine excuses himself to pack his bags and find Blackbird. Despite the disagreement with Kurt, Blaine has enjoyed his time in this small community and would love to stay to get to know them all better. If nothing else, this journey has provided him with an opportunity to meet with the subjects of his parents land and truly get to know the kind-hearted, hard-working souls that they represent.

Madame Tibideaux greets him as he descends the stairs, serene and gentle as always. “Will you be continuing your journey today?”

He nods, slinging his belongings over his arm so he can kiss her hand. “I must, I fear. I’ve already lingered longer these past few days than I had intended.”

“Take courage, Blaine,” his eyes smart at the use of his familiar name. “Courage and love can go long ways in conquering the unknown. Here. We packed some food for your journey and there’s a parcel of herbs that may be helpful with ailments from the road - a poultice to put on wounds and there’s a salve to treat the chapping from long rides.”

Blaine tucks the parcels into his bags. “You have been very kind, Mistress.”

“The House of Adayn is always loyal to its friends. Feel free to call if I could be of service.”

Blaine blinks in the bright sunlight to see Blackbird tied next to the doorway and Kurt standing stiffly next to Pavarotti, tightening the last of his bags in place. Kurt smiles tightly at Blaine, a blush tinting his cheeks and Blaine’s feet stutter at the unexpected sight. “What, what are you doing here?”

“I, I–“ Kurt starts to answer but is interrupted by his friends who push out of the door to say goodbye. They swarm around Kurt, thrusting last minute items into his arms, before each gives him a goodbye hug.

Santana points a finger at Blaine. “You! I’ve got my eye on you. I’d better not be hearing that you broke my Pretty Pony’s heart or I will break you, understand?”

He doesn’t but nods anyway, and she grins with affection. “I do like this one,” she throws back to Kurt, who’s frowning and shaking his head.

Mercedes gives Blaine a friendly squeeze, whispering good luck wishes in his ear. “You two be good to each other, okay?” she murmurs and Blaine hugs her back tightly.

Rachel patiently waits for Blaine to separate from the group and then dips deeply into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness, may it please you to send you off with a blessing over your journey, that the roads will be swift to your destination and that you will conquer your enemy with vigorous valor!”

He stifles back a laugh at her earnestness. “Thank you.”

“Will you accept a boon from an admirer?” She beseeches, waving a handkerchief in her hand.

Many women at court had asked similar and Blaine starts on his prepared speech. “Such kindness you show me, Lady Rachel, but I fear I cannot—”

She leans forward, tucks her handkerchief into his front pocket and kisses him, before backing up with a blush. “To remember me by.”

There’s a clamor as Santana practically drags Rachel back into the house, ranting about how clueless she was, and Mercedes apologizing for her behavior. Kurt’s smile has faded, as he mounts his horse. “Shall we depart?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before lightly nudging the horse into a walk.

Blaine scrambles up Blackbird, checking quickly to make sure his packs are secure before chasing after Kurt. “Kurt, wait. Wait. Hey, wait a minute.” He maneuvers Blackbird in front and stops the horses. “You don’t have to come with me.”

Kurt frowns briefly, then twitches Pavarotti’s reins. “Of course I’m going with you, Prince Blaine.”

“That’s not necessary. I appreciate your assistance so far, but you are under no obligation to me or to the crown to continue. I’m not in the business of forcing people to do things they don’t want to do.” 

Kurt stares at him blankly. “I made a promise.”

“And you haven’t talked to me in two days!” He throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t want you dragging along and calling me ‘Prince Blaine’ and hating me for being less than honest!”

Kurt looks sheepish, the blush spreading across his nose and cheeks again. “I don’t hate you.”

“Because you can’t hate royalty?” Blaine questions bitterly.

“No. I was angry. I, I have a temper, especially if I think that somebody is pulling one over me.”

Blaine pushes forward, eager to finally get to explain to Kurt his motivations. “I wasn’t. Truly. I wanted to tell you, it’s just, I don’t know, it felt really nice having somebody know me only as Blaine and not treat me like they have something to gain from me.”

Kurt softens, nodding a little in understanding. “I get that. There are things about me that I don’t easily share.”

“Why did you avoid me then?”

Kurt looks chagrined. “I had business with Madame Tibideaux, and I needed to cool down and let my more reasonable side take over for a bit. You… I do want to travel with you, if you’ll let me.”

“Truce, then, but only if you promise not to call me Prince Blaine or Your Highness or any of that nonsense.” He sticks his hand out.

Kurt takes it, those long fingers wrapping around his palm, cradling his hand as if in an embrace. “I think those terms are acceptable, _Blaine_.” He emphasizes with a twinkle and Blaine laughs in relief. “Come on, let’s get going. We have a lot of distance to cover today and I fear you have gotten soft with all of those ladies pampering you.” Kurt drops his hand and takes up the reins again and Blaine instantly misses the firm warmth. He clicks his tongue to Birdy, and follows after Kurt.

* * *

Not surprisingly, their first few hours traveling together are awkward. That easy camaraderie that they had so easily developed over the last few days has dissapated to Blaine’s disappointment and he’s at a loss as to how to fix it. They ride and walk in near silence, smiling occasionally when the other catches their eye, which does nothing to ease the emotional floundering that Blaine is experiencing. 

It’s a warm summer morning, quickly heating up, and Blaine’s grateful for the break when they stop for the midday meal at a town nestled in the mountain foothills. Clarington is the last bit of civilization that they’ll see for the next several days, as their path veers sharply to the uninhabited north. 

Kurt raves about the tavern’s chowder. “It’s just a short trip from Adayn, so we would come here for weekends and the chowder is unparalleled. You’ll love it.” Judging by the crowded tables, the people of Clarington obviously share Kurt’s opinion about the food. They manage to find a table near the kitchen where they order soup and cold ale.

Blaine watches some of the other customers. The townsfolk are much like the other people that he’s encountered on this journey, hard workers trying to do the best for themselves or family, with the same sort of gripes and complaints that he’s heard around the castle. He’s grateful that he’s had this chance to get to know the people as they are, without them trying to impress him.

Kurt looks at him thoughtfully and breaks the silence. “Tell me more about Prince Cooper. I mean, as your brother, not as the prince. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I don’t mind.” It’s loud enough that nobody should be able to eavesdrop on them but he chooses his words carefully. It’s been so long since he talked about Cooper with his parents’ grief. “He’s older than me, just over eight years, and as the Crown Prince, he had more responsibilities than I did, which might be why he rebelled against them. When I was really young, he resented me and we didn’t get along. He was often gone with our mother to visit dignitaries and maintain peace with the neighboring kingdoms. Mother wanted him to know what it meant to govern, but he just wanted to have a normal childhood.” He pauses, caught in memories. “I… I worshipped him, wanted to be him and I was so jealous of him. Everybody loved him. He could talk his way out of any problem just by flashing a smile. Even my parents would never punish him.

“Six months or so before the curse, I was home from schooling and Cooper was finally taking it all seriously and our relationship changed. We had this fight where I accused him of being the favorite one and he yelled at me for being the perfect one and, in the end, he started laughing which got me laughing and we’ve been close since then.” Blaine takes a bit of his soup, grinning from the memory. 

“Things changed when he was cursed. My mother has always been this confident woman and now she doesn’t sleep. My father flinches at noises and dares not leave her side. Their ruling has suffered. I used to sit by my mother’s side as she listened to petitioners and made judgements, balancing compassion and justice. And now… she made a law banning the use of magic and outlawing fairies and she’s refused to listen to reason.”

“I’m aware of that law, yes.” Kurt’s jaw tightens in a grimace. 

“It isn’t fair.” Blaine continues passionately. “I’ve never even met a fairy, at least not until Sue, but they’ve always been well respected in the communities for keeping the peace or helping with crops. Sue needs to be brought to justice and punished, but others should not have to suffer for her actions.”

“Does the Queen listen to you?”

“She would listen to Cooper. For all of his protestings, he was a natural leader and I don’t share that skill. I tried to take over as much of the day to day routines, ease her of that burden, but I could never be enough. I don’t know how she’s doing since I left. That’s why I need to find Cooper.” He shrugs. 

”I think you’re underestimating your talents,” Kurt muses. He looks away, staring at the crowd. “When we got word about Finn… or rather when we stopped hearing from him, I wanted to go find him, too. Find out what happened to him. Bring closure to my stepma. She cried every night for months and the not knowing just ate at her. But it costs money and we couldn’t afford it. I couldn’t leave them. I already had enough guilt for not being there when they needed me.”

Blaine reaches across the table and touches his hand. Kurt doesn’t shy away. “I know.” 

“Cooper is so lucky to have you, Blaine. And I hate that you can rescue your brother and I can’t do anything about mine.” 

“We could try to find him too. I have sources--”

“No. We can’t. He’s gone. As much as I wish that he was trapped in some spell… I can’t bring him back.” Kurt shakes himself from his reverie and withdraws his hand. 

“But–” Whatever Blaine was going to say dies in his throat as a lanky man leans next to Kurt, draping a long arm across his shoulders. Blaine looks up to see them surrounded by a group of young men. 

“Well, well, well. Looks like Kurt here has made a friend.” 

Kurt’s face instantly shutters. “Go away, Sebastian.”

“Is that anyway to treat an old mate? And without even introducing me to your very pretty companion?” The man drawls, reaching down to swig from Kurt’s drink, winking at Blaine as he did so. 

Blaine flushes uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“No.” Kurt replies shortly. 

Sebastian leans across Kurt with a broad smile, sticking his hand out. “Sebastian Smythe, at _your_ service, _sir_.” 

“Blaine.”

“Blaine, it is my pleasure.” His thumb caresses over Blaine’s hand, before Blaine can extract it. 

“And now that you have rudely interrupted our supper, why don’t you leave us be?” Kurt snaps.

“We were just getting acquainted.” He slides in the booth next to Blaine. “Where do you come from, Blaine?” 

“Uh, from a city from the south.” Blaine dodges, looking at Kurt for guidance. Kurt is stone-faced, glaring at Sebastian.

“And what brings you here and into my life?” Sebastian purrs, leaning closer.

“Kurt and I, I, we’re travelling on, on business.” Blaine shifts, seeking a little distance. The man’s familiarity makes him uncomfortable and he doesn’t like how Kurt has closed down again.

“Which isn’t any business of yours.” Kurt snaps coldly, “and I ask you again to leave me and my companion alone.”

The sultry caress leaves his voice as Sebastian glances over at Kurt. “So blunt, Kurt. That school of yours certainly hasn’t taught you any manners.”

“Only the boorish find them lacking.”

“Such wit.” Sebastian stands and bows his head at them. “I hope you’ll return to our area soon, killer. I could show you an excellent time.” Sebastian saunters out of the pub, the men clustered behind him, Kurt coolly watching them leaving. 

Kurt grabs the arm of one of them, a beardless youth, wide eyes reflecting fear. “Trent.” He implores, “Please, you know- you’re better than this.” 

“Trent.” Sebastian commands at the doorway and Trent hurries away without a backward look.

Kurt glares as the door slams behind them. “Insufferable prick.” 

“You don’t like him much.” 

Kurt wrinkles his nose. “He prances around here like he owns the place, and since his father is the mayor, he practically does. The boys following him? They call themselves “The Warblers” and Sebastian is their leader. They cause mischief and damage all over town and everybody just looks away.”

“And Trent?”

“He’s a few years younger than I and he’s a good boy. I hate it that Sebastian has preyed on him.” Kurt lapses into a pensive silence, then smiles at Blaine. “Come, we should move on. How was the chowder?”

Blaine smiles back. “Delicious as promised, thank you.”

* * *

Despite Sebastian’s untimely interruption, the break seems to have lightened any lingering discomfort between them. Their conversation when they resume their travels feels much more comfortable, now that Blaine can talk freely about himself.

They’re several miles out of town when Kurt suddenly brings his horse to a halt. “Oh! I know! We should– are you hot?”

“What?”

“Nevermind, just follow me.” Kurt guides Pav through the small gap in the brushes and Blaine follows behind. They follow a rough trail through the rocks and trees, before Kurt swings off Pav and ties her reins to a tree. Blaine scrambles after Kurt, climbing over more rocks, before coming to a sparkling pond nestled in the trees. 

“Do you swim, Prince?” Kurt teases, his nimble fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt. 

“I, I do.” He stammers, eyes locked on the pale skin emerging as Kurt removes off his shirt. “But…”

“We have time, it’s hot and sweaty and the water is perfect. Come and have a bathe with me.” He wheedles, and Blaine is helpless, nodding in agreement before his brain even registers the words. 

Blaine’s fingers can’t seem to function as he watches Kurt make easy work of his shoes and trousers, his clothing discarded in a pile, all of that pale skin glowing in the dappled sunlight. He tries to avert his eyes from where Kurt’s genitals rest between the crease of his legs and his face burns hot when Kurt catches his eye. Kurt grins back at him mischievously. “Race you to the other side,” he calls before he dives into the pool below and Blaine scurries out of his clothes (damn buttons!) to follow him. 

The water is cold and startling when he plummets into the depths and he emerges to another splash as Kurt giggles and swims further away. “You’ll pay for that!” Blaine cries and swims after him.

Kurt is as nimble and graceful in water as out, and he slips easily away from Blaine’s grasp, gliding under the water to tug at Blaine’s feet and twisting away before Blaine can react. Blaine can’t help but stare at Kurt’s pale and broad chest, takes in the way his shoulder muscles rippled as he stretches to swim. He can’t help the need to touch the skin that shimmers in the sunlight. Blaine pushes his legs harder to reach Kurt before he can swim away, grabbing Kurt firmly around the waist, and then dunks them both with a shriek. 

Blaine is mightily thankful that the crisp water keeps his physical reaction to a minimum.

Their play turns into lazy laps around the pond, before Kurt declares himself a prune and rises from the water. Blaine admires Kurt’s firm buttocks and long muscular legs, before shaking his head and trailing after him. 

They dress quickly and Kurt laughs when Blaine gives up on tying the cravat around his neck and leaves it loose. The laugh dies quickly, though, as he looks down at the trees. “Blaine. The horses.”

“What do you mean, the horses?”

“The horse. They’re gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

Kurt’s frantic as he runs to the trees, Blaine following more slowly, trying to peer into the dense foliage. “We tied them up, here, and they’re gone.”

“They must have come loose, I guess. They won’t have gone far.” He starts to call for Blackbird.

Kurt tugs on his arm. “Shhh. No. Listen.” 

Blaine strains, but can hear little besides Kurt’s heavy breathing. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Shh. There.”

“Voices.”

“We were followed.” Kurt grimaces. “And I can bet by who. Come on.”

“Wh- wait, Kurt. Are you just going to march up there and demand the horses back?”

“Yes.” He stalks off. Blaine hurries after him.

It’s not difficult to catch up with the thieves, as they haven’t gone far, only a few hundred feet deeper into the woods. Their clamor increases steadily, yelling voices mingling with loud braying, as Kurt and Blaine approach carefully. 

“Control that horse, Jeff!” Blaine recognizes the voice as belonging to Sebastian. 

“I’m trying! He’s angry and bites when I get close. Ouch!” 

“It’s not that difficult.”

“I don’t like horses.” Jeff whimpers. 

Kurt touches his arm, voice soft in his ear. “I’ll go around there, see if I can take them by surprise. You should get to Blackbird and your sword.”

“No, wait!” Blaine urges. “You know they must expect us to come after them. Sebastian didn’t strike me as stupid. Why aren’t they going back to town?”

Kurt hesitates. “I- I don’t know.”

“We should follow them, see what they’re planning, before we try to attack them.”

Kurt assents. “You’re right. We probably should still split up. Stay low.”

Blaine nods in agreement. As much as he’d like to stay by Kurt’s side, separating means less chance of being discovered.

The company of thieves jostle forward through the woods, bickering loudly. Blaine keeps to the side and out of the view, unable to hear much of their conversation. There’s more than a half dozen young men in the group, most dressed in thin shirts that have seen too much wear. They don’t seem to care that they might be attracting attention and Blaine worries again that something is amiss. He’s cautious, trying to stay blended in the trees as he creeps forward. He doesn’t see Kurt, which is reassuring that he has managed to hide from view as well. 

The group halts in a clearing in front of a large house, foreboding in the dimming light, and Blaine slips closer as the door opens. 

“Hunter!” One of the men calls out. “We brought horses!” 

“We took them from two very well-to-do gentlemen.” Another remarks gleefully. 

“Kurt Hummel is the opposite of well-to-do.” Sebastian snarls as he separates from the pack, walking up to greet the man. “The other– Hunter, there is a royal seal on the saddle and his horse is finely bred.” 

“Hmm. Were you followed?” Hunter questions.

Sebastian smirks broadly. “Of course.” He tilts his head towards where Blaine is hiding. “The gentleman is over there and I’m sure the pasty one is close behind.” 

Blaine scrambles back abruptly, his heart pounding, until a sharp poke at his throat stops him. “I wouldn’t go any further.” The blond man nudges his sword slightly and Blaine winces as it digs. 

“Bring him here, Jeff,” the man at the door commands and Blaine finds himself his hands tied behind his back, being dragged forward in the dirt. 

Hunter’s face is hard and cold, with not a glimmer of kindness, although his eyes widen in recognition. “Brothers, not only do we have a gentleman in our midst tonight, I believe we have been graced by royalty! Prince Blaine, you honor us with your presence!” He sweeps into an exaggerated bow. The men hoot and laugh in response. 

“I do not think I have had your acquaintance, sir.” Blaine spits, angry at his treatment. If he’s not angry, then he’ll worry, and anger is an easier emotion to deal with. 

“No, why would you pay attention to anybody below you?” Hunter sneers. “My father owns all of these lands and serves as your duke. I’ve been to Dalton, sat at your fine tables, and have been completely ignored as mere country peasants.”

“My apologies for any offense.” Blaine mutters. 

Hunter nudges him with his foot. “You’ll make a pretty ransom. With the Crown Prince all but dead and gone, the crown will give handsomely for your return.” He reaches down and tugs Blaine up sharply by his curls. “Sebastian! Your dagger!”

Sebastian holds out his knife without a tremor, sinking Blaine’s hopes. “He’ll be worth less if you mame him.”

Hunter’s grip tightens and Blaine fights back the gasp of pain. “We all know your preference for the pretty boys. I promise, he can still warm your bed at night, while we wait for the crown’s response. But they won’t believe us, unless we send a little token.” Blaine feels the knife saw through his hair roughly, before Hunter releases his grip and pushes Blaine back to the ground. “The hair will make a nice touch when I send your royal mama and papa your saddle, won’t it?” 

The gang shift uneasily. “Are you sure about this, boss?” One of them asks. “There were two of them. What if the other got away?”

“What is he going to do? Go to town and demand our arrest? May I remind you all who my father is? And your father?” He points to Sebastian and then to another in the group. “And yours? Who would believe him?”

“But… nobody said nothing about kidnapping a prince.” A timid voice pipes up, and Blaine recognizes the boy from the pub. Trent, Kurt called him. “That’s hangable, Hunter.”

Hunter snarls at the boy. “I don’t recall asking for your advice, but if you don’t like the way I’m running the Warblers, you can leave.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean nothing.” Trent trips on his feet, in his haste to retreat.

“Tie him up. We’ll find a place to store him tomorrow. You– go through the horses’ bags. Any jewelry or money you find is mine, you hear me?” Hunter demands, glaring at his crew who swiftly comply with his orders. 

Blaine is lashed tightly to the porch railing. He flexes his fingers, trying to keep the circulation flowing, his mind racing and the panic setting in. They hadn’t located Kurt, as far as he can tell, which causes more rage from Hunter. The large bottle of rum they pilfer from Kurt’s bags seems to calm him down and he is near jolly as night approaches. (Blaine’s a little miffed that after all of these days together, Kurt hadn’t offered him a drink).

After supper, Sebastian approaches him and kneels behind him, checking the ropes around Blaine’s wrists. He frowns at their tightness and loosens them slightly. “Sorry about that, killer. There, is that any better?”

“Let me go, Sebastain.” Blaine says softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“‘Course I do. What do you think he’ll do to me if he finds you gone? Hunter’ll relax in a couple of days and as long as you promise not to run away, he’ll be good to you. You’ll see.” He pats Blaine’s cheek and Blaine flinches away. “I’ll have one of the boys bring you out some food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself, killer.” Sebastian shrugs and walks away. 

Blaine is assigned two guards that night, men he doesn’t know and they don’t introduce themselves. They sit on the stairs, playing cards by the flickering candlelight. Blaine shifts and manages to twist to lie down on the wood. Tears spring to his eyes, and he fights back the sobs until sleep overtakes him. 

“Blaine. Blaine.” A voice hisses in his ear, and Blaine lurches awake. “Shhh. Just give me a moment to get you untied.”

It’s late, the blanket of darkness thick and nonpenetrating. He doesn’t recognize the voice. “What? Who–”

“No, don’t say anything. Not here. Come on, we have to get away from here.” The dark figure wraps an arm around him and carefully helps him down the stairs. He can’t hear anything from inside the house, everything silent in the darkness. Their feet fall heavy on the porch, and Blaine’s heart pounds harder in his ears, but nothing seems to stir from inside. Dimly, he makes out two figures slumped over in the bushes - his guards, he supposes.

His eyes adjust to the darkness as they cross the clearing, but his guide doesn’t pause. They plunge into the dark forest and Blaine is again blind, dependent on the man beside him. They walk for several minutes, in a set direction that the man seems to know. Blaine attempts to look over his shoulder several times but he doesn’t see anyone following them. 

A branch breaks and Blaine clamps down on his shriek. “Did you get him?” Another man emerges from the darkness. 

“Kurt.” He breathes in relief and throws himself into his arms. 

Kurt squeezes him tight and pulls back, his eyes black and piercing. “Did they hurt you?” He whispers and runs his finger down Blaine’s cheek. 

He shivers, leaning more into the touch, grounded by Kurt’s tangible presence. “No, but they figured out who I am.” 

“I know. Trent told me.” Kurt releases him reluctantly, turning to the man beside them. “I managed to get him a note and he has been very helpful.”

Blaine throws a grateful smile in Trent’s direction.

“We need to go.” Kurt murmurs. “If we’re to get a head start.”

“But the horses–” Blaine protests. 

“We’ve already got them, There’s a back door to the barn and it was easy to slip in and take them from under their noses. This way.” Kurt leads them confidently through the woods. 

Blaine looks back over his shoulder every few steps but he doesn’t see anyone following them. Kurt catches his movement. “It’s okay. It’ll be a while before they wake and figure out what has happened.”

Blaine shakes his head, puzzled. “How?”

“The rum was drugged. Opium and a little belladonna. You never know when a sleeping draught might come in handy.” Kurt smiles at him. “We’re almost here. The horses are just over there by the road - it took a long time to calm Pav down, as she does not like being separated from me, let me tell you.”

“And this is where I must go.” Trent pipes up. 

Blaine’s almost forgotten about his presence and he holds a hand out to shake. “Trent. My deepest thanks.”

Trent stammers. “Oh, um, it’s nothing, Prince Blaine, really. It wasn’t good for me, really, being a Warbler, not like I thought it was going to be.” 

“Will you be safe?” Blaine questions and the boy nods his head vigorously.

“Oh yes, I’m going to go stay with my gran down south, at least until the trial.”

At Blaine’s curious look, Kurt fills in. “Hunter Clarington may think he owns the town but there is more than one villager who has had their fill with the Warblers and their pranks. I just walked back into town and told the sheriff where he might find some missing valuables. They’ll be here by sunrise.”

Blaine barks in laughter. “Kurt, you didn’t.”

“I most certainly did.” He grins back. “We’ll need to ride the horses hard for the next couple of hours, just to make sure they don’t follow us. Are you ready?”

Blaine mounts Blackbird, gathering her familiar reins in his hands and touches his heels to her rump. The moon parts from the clouds to paint their way as they gallop off to Trent’s wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments mean everything to me. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying and flailing with me.


	6. Chapter 5

Kurt is jumpy the first couple of days after leaving Clarington, keeping the horses close to them at night and insisting that they sleep in shifts, but he relaxes as nothing happens and the days pass uneventfully - too many days for Blaine’s comfort. Each day brings him closer to the journey's end and yet, never close enough to complete his task, for better or worse. Every day, the gnawing pit of anxiety grows. Sue’s presence looms greater as they pick their way slowly through winding roads, with towering canyons to either side, carved by a roaring river. They pass more and more abandoned villages, where locals had fled after experiencing her wrath. The few people they run into shudder at her name. 

Blaine doesn’t mention his nervousness to Kurt. It would make it too real and he’s reluctant to reveal that he has no idea what he’s going to do when he meets Sue. He has had no better ideas come to mind despite his constant worries. Their kingdom has been a peaceful one and Blaine has never had to go to war. He wishes that he possesses his brother’s cool composure and quick decisiveness. Strategic planning is not one of Blaine’s strongest skills.

He spends time polishing and sharpening his sword, while ruminating in front of the evening fire, forcing himself to imagine slicing the blade through Sue’s belly, watching her die in front of him. “She deserves it,” he tries to tell himself but his heart squirms. He slides the blade back into the scabbard and stares morosely into the flickering flames.

Kurt, for his part, watches him carefully during these periods of contemplation but never presses Blaine on what’s wrong. They trace their path on the map, making joint decisions on directions to go, but despite his earlier expression of misgivings, now Kurt seems completely confident in Blaine’s plans. It’s that confidence that makes it impossible for Blaine to spill his insecurities, even when he lies next to Kurt in the milky darkness. During the day, Kurt asks him endless questions about the daily functions of the court, eager to learn all about life as royalty, and Blaine regales him with stories about misbehaving dignitaries and visiting distance kingdoms. But at night, as the fire dies and they curl close for warmth beneath the blankets, it’s then that Blaine tells Kurt about his jealousy of Cooper growing up and the lingering wish of his parents undivided and unconditional affection - words that he has never dared express, not even to Wesbrook. Kurt in turn talks about his fears of his father dying and memories of Finn, words spilling out in raw emotion. 

Blaine loves the nights the best. 

He still wakes up most mornings draped across Kurt, his body unconsciously seeking Kurt’s solid warmth, despite his valiant efforts every night to keep his distance. Kurt thankfully never seems to mind or express any discomfort – Blaine swears that once there was a moment as he drifted towards consciousness, where he felt Kurt stroking across his back but by the time he had fully awakened, Kurt had stopped and removed his hand. Blaine wouldn’t feel guilty about his clinginess if it wasn’t for the dreams. His dreams have morphed from the nightmares of Cooper’s torture to feverish dreams of Kurt with sun-sparkled skin and pale chest, splashing in the cool water and beckoning him closer. Dreams of Blaine leaning over Kurt spread out over the blankets, tracing his fingers across Kurt’s fine jaw, down his throat and feeling him swallow behind his touch. Dreams of Kurt slotting their fingers together and bringing their hands to his perfect mouth and pressing kisses on each knuckle. He wakes before his dreams become anything more than sensual hints that leave him aching with something deeper than just mere want.

His mind refuses to give name to the way that his chest seizes when Kurt laughs freely at his jokes or the way his hands tremble when Kurt’s brush his when they prepare the evening meal together. He can’t permit himself to daydream of a rosy future where he makes Kurt laugh all the time, when in all likelihood, he is leading them both to either eternal entrapment or death because of his ineptitude. So he only grants himself a few moments as the tantalizing dreams fade away to admire the sweep of Kurt’s hair across his brow and the faint outline of his sleep-slacked mouth in the starry darkness, before closing his eyes and directing his thoughts in other directions. 

“What do you miss the most about home?” Kurt asks one night, rising up on his arm to look down at Blaine on the blankets. 

_You._ He wants to answer. _I’m already missing you because I can’t have what I want more than anything and I have never been more at home than with you._

“Cook’s pot roast,” he lies, “the potatoes are delicious.”

* * *

Blaine clutches his cloak tighter around his body, trying to wrap the folds closer. He’s so cold that it’s hard to focus on anything surrounding them. The weather had become unseasonably colder the last couple of days, and now thick snowflakes twist angrily in the howling winds. Kurt had pulled out thick cloaks from his bags – Blaine marvels again at Kurt’s tight packing skills as more than one necessity had appeared from its pockets over the course of their trip – when the storm began, but the wind still seeps through and his hands are ice where they clutch Birdy’s reins. Fearing injury to the animals, he and Kurt had dismounted to guide their animals against the wind, although the wind velocity appears to be increasing, causing Blaine to stumble. It’s been hours and it doesn’t feel like they’ve made any progress – for all that he knows, they’ve been walking around in circles. He can barely make out the trees surrounding them, and he glances back often to make sure that he hasn’t lost Kurt and Pav in the storm. 

“See anything?” He yells at Kurt through the swirling snow.

“ I can’t see the road any more!” He hollers back. “We should stop.” 

“We’ll freeze without shelter.” 

“We’re freezing anyway. There’s a clump of trees up there, next to those rocks - we can make shelter and wait out the storm there.” 

Blaine doesn’t protest. He has no better ideas. Blaine’s barely slept the last couple nights, dreaming again of Cooper who screams in agony and causes Blaine to wake up in a cold sweat. The lack of sleep has been draining him, clouding his mind. He leads Blackbird under the thicket of trees where the wind reduces somewhat to a whistling roar. It’s no warmer and Blaine has difficulty releasing Birdy’s reins to tie her to the tree, his leather riding gloves doing little from protecting him from the penetrating cold.

“You’re so cold!” Kurt tuts and tucks Blaine’s hands between his, blowing on them and rubbing briskly. 

“I di-di-didn’t exp-pect a b-b-bliz-zard in Ju-July.” His teeth chatter hard as he burrows more into Kurt’s heat. 

“The mountains are always a little unpredictable.” Kurt agrees, hugging Blaine closer. They stand quietly for a few minutes until Blaine’s chattering eases. Blaine tucks his chin into Kurt’s neck and he’d be happy to never leave this position, breathing in Kurt’s scent, surrounded by Kurt’s strong arms and firm chest. His eyes droop as exhaustion overtakes him. Kurt notices and rubs his hands briskly down Blaine’s arms. “Come on, let's get out the blankets and your canvas and see if we can wait out the storm.”

They set up a modified camp as quickly as possible. Their horses huddle together, stamping their feet, as Blaine lashes the canvas up above their heads. Even under the canopy protection, they tremble.

“The horses seem scared.” Blaine remarks, and Kurt looks up from where he is pulling out their pile of blankets from his packs. Kurt runs his hands over Pavarotti’s long neck, murmuring lightly to the horse. “You nervous, girl?” She nickers in response. “There’s something nearby.”

Blaine starts. “Here?”

“Not right here, no, but close. The wind is malevolent.” 

“It’s Sue.”

“Yes. I think it is.” Kurt confirms, as he throws a blanket over the two of them. They curl up close to defend from the encompassing cold. Blaine sits against a tree, staring out into the premature darkness. They don’t speak, their somber mood reflecting the approaching reality. 

He drifts in consciousness, the snow churning in front of his eyes. In the distance, he sees a flicker of light, faintly hued a sickly green. He strains his eyes, trying to focus. _There._ He nudges Kurt gently. “There. Do you see?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t a normal storm, is it.” 

He’s not surprised by Kurt’s affirmation. “No, it’s not.”

Blaine tips his head on Kurt’s shoulder. _This is it._ He thinks and all he feels is a deep exhaustion, that knot of fear in his stomach strangely absent. He just wants it to be over. “I don’t think it’s going to get better. The storm. All of it. Kurt--”

Kurt tightens his arm around Blaine. “I know.”

“You don’t have to go any further. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t want you to risk your life for me.”

Kurt places his finger on Blaine’s lips to stop further protests. “I’m coming with you.” He repeats. 

Blaine nods numbly, too tired to argue and secretly relieved. It’s selfish, putting Kurt in danger’s way for his own comfort but he needs Kurt, needs his presence and strength. “You’ve been such a good friend to me, Kurt. Thank you.” 

Kurt’s stiffens slightly beside him but his gaze is warm when Blaine looks up at him. “Any time.”

He’s getting warmer, cocooned in Kurt’s arms and surrounding blankets. He blinks his eyes to try to prevent their droop. “We shouldn’t fall asleep. ‘sn’t safe, we’ll freeze. Hafta go storm the castle...” He mumbles.

“You need rest, Blaine. I’ll take watch.”

“But…”

“Sleep, honey.”

* * *

Blaine jerks awake, lifting his head off the pillowed blankets. The wind blusters around him, shrill but unchanged, and he can’t figure out what brought him out of his deep sleep. He is groggy and disoriented and uncertain with how long he has slept, but his body feels unrested. The weather provides no clues as it is still gloomy and cold, with that hint of moss green color tinging the air that keeps catching in the corner of his eyes, confirming the unnatural weather phenomenon. The only change is that he’s no longer slumped against Kurt, and a quick look around the small shelter confirms his absence. Pavarotti is also gone; Blackbird stands alone under the canopy. 

Blaine struggles to his feet, discarding the blankets to look around. The snow under his feet has been trampled to packed snow, but otherwise, beyond their little sanctuary, the storm has continued, snow piling in large heaps. 

“Kurt. Kurt!” Silence greets him. His voice becomes louder, more desperate. “Kurt!” 

He peers out from under the canvas. Any footprints have been buried under the inches of accumulating snow and there’s no evidence of Kurt. “Kurt!” He calls out again. He turns desperately around the small shelter, but there aren’t any hidden crevices. Blackbird snuffs gently against his head. He leans against her neck, forcing sudden tears back. “Where did he go, Birdy? He left you and me behind.”

He can’t think, can’t process, and at the same time, his mind swirls with questions and panic. He doesn’t know what to do. Why did Kurt leave? Especially after promising that he would be with Kurt until the end. Did Sue take Kurt? Why only kidnap Kurt and not him, too? 

No, with Pav’s absence, it means that Kurt purposefully left him. Left him alone when he needs Kurt so badly. He doesn’t know what to do. Should he try to find Kurt? How can he find Kurt in this blizzard? Where would Kurt _go_? 

He stares out into the bleak landscape, searching for some sign of Kurt out there in the darkness, but there is none. His eyes fixate on that flickering light in the distance. Sue is there. He is supposed to face her and rescue Cooper today and he thought he could do it with Kurt at his side. Without him, his courage peters out and he can’t help the tears that drip down his cheeks. 

The cold seeps back into his bones, mingling with the paralyzing chill of helplessness, and he sinks down into the pooled blankets in despair. He feels so very very alone and lost and more than anything, he just wants to go home. 

What is he supposed to do?

Blaine doesn’t know how long he sits there, the panic and cold freezing his insides, choking on the tears that won’t stop running down his cheeks. Time creeps past and Kurt doesn’t return.

The tears dry out and he finally stirs from his cocoon of despair. He has no choice, not really. Just because Kurt has abandoned him, he can’t use that as an excuse to discard his quest. Blaine gathers up the blankets, throwing them over his horse - his one steady, faithful companion - while wrapping another across his shoulders. He’s numb to the cold now, but it’ll be worse out there. “Come on, Birdy, we have to find him.”

“Find who?” Kurt ducks down under the canvas, Pavarotti trailing behind, appearing like a hallucination. Hallucinations didn’t stamp their feet to remove snow, did they? “You didn’t sleep long.”

“Kurt.” He breathes, trembling. “You... You. I woke up and you were gone.”

“I wanted to take a closer look at that light we saw. I’d hoped to be back before you woke. You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you.” 

Blaine’s overwhelmed by the whiplash of emotions and he can’t do more than just stare at Kurt, trying to convince himself that he is real.

Kurt seems oblivious to Blaine’s internal breakdown. “You were right, though. There’s a castle, less than a half-league from here. I didn’t dare get closer, but we should be able to slip around to the back.” He pauses in front of Blaine, reaching his fingers out as if to caress Blaine’s tear-stained cheek, withdrawing them hastily just before they touched. Not oblivious, then. “Blaine. What’s wrong?”

He’s embarrassed to admit his emotional spiral. “You were gone. And I didn’t know what to do. I thought--” He can’t finish.

Kurt grabs his hand and squeezes it, grounding Blaine in his tangible presence. “I’m never saying goodbye to you. I gave you my promise and I mean it.”

Blaine nods, not trusting his ability to speak around that lump of emotion still lodged in his chest, and squeezes back. 

“Oh, I managed to find some thicker gloves in the bottom of the bags, so no more cold icicle hands, Mister.” Kurt shakes his finger as he hands over the gloves.

Blaine shakes his head fondly. “The treasures that that bag produces, I swear, Kurt.”

“I’m prepared for everything,” Kurt protests good naturedly. “What would you possible do without me?”

“Obviously transform into a frozen weeping mess.” He smiles wanely and Kurt’s soft look warms him up more than the gloves. 

They feed the horses before packing up, Kurt arguing that they should rest a little longer, Blaine pushing to just leave. He’s too wound up from all of the stress of the day to rest any further. He wants to get Cooper and get out of there as soon as possible.

Once they drop the canvas and move from their little clump of trees, the weather is still ferocious. Kurt leads them confidently forward, pushing through the mounds of snow, drawing closer to the threatening light. They wind their way down to the valley floor, where the thick forest thins, the castle suddenly looming tall and menacing over them. It’s cold and uninviting, the yellow-green glow emanating from the tower spire as a warning. 

Blaine steps forward and it’s as if he’s pushed through a curtain. The abrupt silence is more unnerving than the howling winds. The icy cold suddenly vanishes and the ground under his feet and surrounding the castle is bare of snow, as if the storm is giving wide berth and for the first time in days, Blaine can see sky above. 

“If we leave the horses behind here,” Kurt gestures, “we can climb the trees closest to the wall there and make our way into the castle.”

“No.” Blaine shakes his head, still staring at the castle, his cloak heavy and suffocating in the sudden humidity. “No, we go to the front.”

“What?”

“We go to the front door and ask for Sue.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He looks over at Kurt. “This is our only chance. Talking to her directly, negotiating for Cooper’s release. We have to try.”

Kurt looks at him for a long moment and nods. “Okay. It was your idea to storm the castle anyway.” 

Blaine laughs weakly. “I’m better at diplomacy than storming castles. At least I hope so.”

They leave the horses with their cloaks in the corner of the clearing. Blaine rubs Birdy’s nose one more time for good luck (he refuses to think how this might be goodbye) before he straps on his sword and scabbard, and straightens his shirt. He glances one more time over at Kurt, who appears as pale and nervous as he feels, but gives Blaine a firm nod. 

Dead leaves and branches crunch under their feet as they walk towards the large gates. The wind and snow may have stopped and the temperatures warmed up, but the air is perfumed with the stench of death. 

Blaine straightens his back and walks as confidently as all of those years of training have taught him. He thinks of his brother and forces down his nerves. He can do this. He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much appreciation to all of you reading and commenting. 🥰


	7. Chapter 6

Not entirely unexpectedly, given the empty courtyard and gatehouse, no one responds to his pounding fist on the door. Blaine pounds again. Nothing. He glances over at Kurt who shrugs and reaches for the door handle, which gives way easily. Too easily. As the door opens, he pushes Kurt aside, looking around for the inevitable trap. 

The door creaks loudly and reveals an empty great hall, covered in shadow and dust. Blaine announces himself loudly, and the only response is his voice echoing back. 

Blaine slumps in utter disappointment. To have come all this way, this entire journey, and Sue isn’t even here. He has been so foolish. 

“Hey.” Kurt touches his arm. “Come on, let’s look around.”

Blaine wrenches his arm away, not wanting to be touched when it feels like everything has fallen apart. “It’s no use. We failed. I led us on a fucking fool’s hunt to a fucking abadoned castle in the middle of fucking nowhere and what did it get us? Absolutely fucking nothing!” He kicks the door shut with a bang.

“Your maps weren’t wrong. Sue might have moved on and left some clue as to where she is now.”

“Or she didn’t and we are wasting our time. Again.”

“You can’t give up now, Blaine.” Kurt protests.

“I can and I am done.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve come so far.” Kurt counters. “Let’s just look around and then we can decide what to do next.”

“You’re not listening to me!” He yells in frustration. “I’m done with this whole stupid, pointless journey.”

“Pointless.” Kurt’s face falls and he blinks rapidly. “I see. I- I- I’m going to take a look around. You can do what you want.” He stalks off. 

Blaine doesn’t bother to follow. He kicks at the door again and then collapses to the floor, his sword clattering useless beside him. He stares despondently at the tattered tapestries, where only a few beams of the setting sun pass through. He had been steeling himself for failure but he had thought that at least he’d have a chance to prove himself. That’s all he wanted: a chance but he had been wrong, so very wrong. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice breaks him out of his tortured thoughts, calling from across the hall. “I think you should come and check this out.”

“What is it?” He calls back tiredly. Nothing is keeping Kurt here now. He will also want to leave him; he only came because he could be of use to Blaine and now he's angry and disappointed in Blaine too. 

“Please, Blaine. I need you.” Kurt’s tone wobbles. Blaine catches the fear in Kurt’s voice and scrambles to his feet, striding quickly across the long hall.

Kurt stands frozen near the other end. He holds a small dagger, gripping it tightly. As Blaine gets nearer, he can see that it shakes finely in his hand. “What-” Blaine starts, and Kurt nudges his knife forward. _There._

In the corner next to the cold hearth, a large form blinks cold, yellow eyes at them. A thick tail, covered in dark purple scales tipped in spikes scrapes against the stone floor as those eyes regard them, narrowing in interest. 

Blaine steps in front of Kurt, shielding him as best he can. He keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword, never looking away from the dragon. The dragon contemplates them for long moments. Blaine can barely breathe, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He feels Kurt reach for his other hand and Blaine leans into the support. 

“Who dares disturb my slumber?” The dragon speaks in a deep growl, low and threatening. It crawls towards them, its claws scratching on the floor as it approaches them, never taking its slit-pupils off of them. “Usually, it’s pathetic men who want to challenge me, not two dough faced weaklings who quiver before me.”

Perhaps it’s the fatigue, perhaps it’s that overwhelming feeling of nihilism that has been feasting on his soul, but something snaps inside of him and all fear and nerves melts away. This is it: this moment where he will either rescue his brother or he will die trying. He straightens and looks the dragon firmly in the eye. The dragon sticks its claw out, poking Blaine in the chest and Blaine grabs the claw and holds it firmly. “I know it’s you, Sue.” 

The dragon reels back and growls, ripping its claw from Blaine’s grip. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Blaine Andreason. I would like to negotiate the release of one of your captives.” 

“Negotiate? I should just eat you both instead.”

“But you won’t. Change back, Sue, and we’ll talk.”

Sue regards him for a long moment, before suddenly sending a plume of smoke from her open jaw over them. Blaine doesn’t flinch as the acrid air washes over him, although he feels Kurt grip his hand tighter and he glances back at Kurt. If Blaine hadn’t become so familiar with Kurt’s expressions, he would have missed the slight tremor of fear in his set face. He squeezes back, trying to reassure him—and himself—that it will be okay. 

“Fine.” Bright flashes and sparks of green and yellow lights blinds Blaine; he squints against the onslaught. They gather and settle into the human form of Sue who snarls at the two of them. “Now talk.”

They have been traveling for so long that the fact that they are here, staring down Sue, is surreal. “I am Prince Blaine, youngest son of Andrea, Queen of Dalton. Three years ago, you trespassed our lands and stole away our prince. I have come to free him.”

“It’s possible. I steal a lot of princes when they deserve it and they so often do. Why should I care?” 

“My people have suffered without him. My parents miss him.”

“Boo hoo.” Sue drawls, clearly unimpressed. 

“He’s a good man and he deserves a second chance.” Blaine insists.

Sue snaps her fingers and a goblet appears in her hand. She takes a long drink, glaring at Blaine and Kurt. “This reminds me of the time when I salted the earth of the couple living next door so nothing living could grow there for a hundred years. You know why I did it? Because they came by with a basket of eggs like we were neighbors.” She slurps down the drink and licks her lips. “The woman nearly died of scurvy and tried to give me her brat in exchange for lettuce. Do I look like I'm running a nursery? So what are you going to offer?”

Blaine regards her slowly. He hadn't thought when he had encountered Sue as a teenager that she was deranged but she is making no sense. “What do you want? I speak on Dalton’s behalf and can offer lands or money.”

“Land? Money? You insult me.”

“Or.” He pauses and continues calmly. “You could do the right thing and set him free.” Beside him, Kurt stifles a laugh. 

Sue’s face twists in fury. “You dare to come to me and make demands? You?!? I remember you, the charming prince who wept at my feet. Did you expect to just waltz in and bat your doe eyes at me and I would just release him? That isn’t going to happen. So now what?” She mocks. “How do you intend to free him, Charming? I see no army. Will you fight me? Fight me as a dragon and prove your worth?”

“No.” After weeks of indecision, an idea forms, and he knows instinctively what to do. It’s impulsive, yes, and if he had time to think, he would certainly talk himself out of it. But. He made a promise to himself, to his family, and to his kingdom. Blaine speaks without a quiver, Kurt’s hand in his providing him strength. “I offer myself as an exchange. Free him and you may have me instead.”

“Blaine! What are you doing?!” Kurt hisses but he dares not look at him or his resolve will waver.

“My brother was foolish, yes, but the kingdom needs their heir. I will take his place.”

Sue circles them thoughtfully. “Your brother I cursed to sleep for a hundred years—by then, I hoped that he might have learned to close his sniveling mouth. I will not lighten the duration.” 

“I know.”

“Your people will live without you. You will lose all that you have loved. This porcelain boy who glares so prettily at your side will find some other foolish man to love instead. He will not remember you.”

Blaine’s heart seizes at Sue’s words. Love him? He’s never dared hope that Kurt might—. Beside him, Kurt recoils sharply and refuses to meet Blaine’s widening eyes but he doesn’t deny it and Blaine’s heart aches for what he is sacrificing. He wishes that there was time to explore what is happening between them, speak his truth. He wishes for so much. “I know the consequences.” 

Sue tuts. “You are either very brave or very foolish. Perhaps both. If you think that you will somehow overcome me and avoid his fate–”

Blaine unbuckles his belted scabbard—his hand aches with the absence of Kurt’s fingers around his—and holds it out in his hands. He contemplates drawing the sword, striking quickly, but even in this moment where he may lose everything, he cannot take human life. “Here is my sword. I bear no other weapon and come with no tricks.” The sword clatters loudly on the stone floor and he kicks it over to Sue as he continues. “I am willing to take Cooper’s punishment in exchange for his freedom. I, I just ask that you release my friend- my companion and allow no harm to befall him. He is innocent. I asked for his assistance to find you, and I should have sent him away, but I needed the strength of his presence to do this—” He blinks back sudden tears and pushes through the break in his voice “–please don’t make him suffer for my weakness.” 

“No, no, don’t.” He hears Kurt whisper beside him.

“Your begging is delightful. Simply delightful. Fine, I’ll let Lady Face walk out of here.” 

“And my brother?”

“And your brother. His rule will be a pox over your country. His grief at your needless sacrifice - ah, I can almost taste it.” She smacks her lips. 

“Then we have a deal?” 

“A deal.” Sue raises her staff and rests the tip on his head. Blaine feels the power circling over his head, sparks coalescing around him. As the spell coats him, heavy and sticky, he turns to seek out Kurt. At the end of all things, he just needs to see Kurt. His Kurt. He wishes for more time, wishes the words would come so he could tell Kurt those feelings he’s been denying— 

Kurt fumbles through his pockets, shouting something that he can’t hear. Blaine wishes that he could hold onto those fingers one last time but the urge to close his eyes and embrace eternal slumber becomes overwhelming. Blaine fights to keep his gaze fixed on Kurt—he wants this last memory to be of Kurt.

He closes his eyes. The ground sways behind his feet and Sue shrieks in anger.

Something in the air pops like an explosion. A sudden surge of wind and power sweeps over Blaine and pushes him to the ground like a violent wave and then snaps back and recedes into the corners of the room. A scream and an agonizing howl fade into heavy silence.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there. He drifts, eyes closed, mind strangely silent. This feels unlike normal sleep — a sensation of being caught in a thick syrup, with strangely weak muscles. His chest struggles to rise with breath and his side aches from the fall. He can’t move and he can’t— 

“Blaine!” Kurt’s at his side, turning him over, and cradling him to his chest. “Blaine! Blaine, wake up! Wake up! You have to wake up.” 

Kurt’s fingers caress his cheeks, slides his fingers through his curls. He tries to open his eyes, let the words pass through his lips, reassure Kurt. _Shh. I’m here Kurt, I’m okay. I’m here._ His lids remain heavy. 

Something wet splashes on his face and in shock he realizes that Kurt is sobbing. _Don’t cry. I’m okay._ “Don’t die. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you. Please, Blaine, wake up. Please, Blaine, I love you.” Kurt presses his lips to Blaine, a soft, fleeting pressure that Blaine almost wonders if he imagines it. 

Like the sun melting ice, the spell holding him stiff thaws, softening first at the edges. He senses the sticky sweet substance trickling down his torso into a puddle before dissolving and disappearing into the floor underneath him. He strains with effort to lift his legs and, suddenly, Blaine can move again. “Kurt.” He croaks. His eyelids are heavy but he forces them open to look at Kurt.

Kurt clings to him in a desperate hug. “You’re alive. I, I thought- You weren’t breathing.”

Blaine rests his forehead against Kurt’s, gulping in large breaths. “What happened? Where’s Sue?”

Kurt also seems unwilling to let him go, his hands clenching Blaine’s tunic as if to reassure himself that Blaine is unharmed. “There, I think.” He points to a glowing cocoon where Sue had been standing, a staff lying beside. “Her enchantment ricocheted when it was broken and she was trapped in the reverberations.”

“I don’t understand. How was it broken?”

Kurt takes a deep breath. “That might be because of me. I’m a fairy.”

“A fairy?” 

“An apprentice fairy, actually. I’m still a student at Adayn. I wanted to tell you, Blaine, so much, but I couldn’t. You had to do this on your own. If you had known about me, it could have ruined everything. And if Sue had known, she could have used you—I shudder to think what she might have done.”

“Used me? For what? I don’t understand.” 

“The magic is complicated and it got all twisted and–”

“Cooper!” Blaine interrupts, looking around frantically. “Where’s Cooper? Is he free, too?”

Kurt looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I don’t think this broke her previous enchantments; it just stopped her from trapping you.”

Blaine slumps heavily against Kurt, clutching at him desperately. “I failed.” He says in a dull whisper and all of the emotions of this terrible day release in a flood. Tears stream down his cheeks and he doesn’t hold back the agonizing sobs that escape. “I failed my brother.”

Kurt pulls him in closer, hugging Blaine tight to his chest. “No, that’s not true. Shh. We’ll find him. He may still be around here. We’ll scour the place and when we find him, we’ll take him back to Adayn. I’m sure that Carmen and my sisters can figure something out.”

He can’t do more than weep for long minutes, Kurt rocking him in his arms. “I can’t go home without him. I don’t even know if he’s here. It’s too late.”

“It’s not. It’s not. I promise. Whatever it takes, we will find him.” 

“Can you reverse it?” He gestures towards the shimmering lump. “Is it permanent?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen an enchantment collapse like that. It’s advanced magic.”

“I’ve got to save Cooper, Kurt. And if that includes releasing Sue from the enchantment so she’ll tell us where he is, so be it. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“But I’m not! I almost lost you and I’m not going to do that again.”

Blaine pushes himself out of Kurt’s embrace, wiping angrily at his cheeks. “You don’t have a say in this, Kurt! This was my quest. Mine. The goal was always to free Cooper.”

“I know! I know that! But there are other ways to do that without rushing in and haphazardly selling your soul and ending up in a curse yourself. We can figure this out, if you’ll just work with me.”

Blaine scowls and looks away. He hates to admit it but Kurt has a point. “Fine. What should we do?”

“I can use the mirror in the hall to contact Adayn. Madame Tibideaux is my teacher. She’s a brilliant fairy and I doubt that there’s a spell or curse that she can’t figure out. She’ll know what to do.” Kurt scrambles up. 

Blaine pushes himself up to follow Kurt and sways, black spots dancing in his vision. Kurt rushes back to his side, throwing an arm around his waist and Blaine leans grateful into the support. “Whoa, honey. Spells like that, especially when they go bad, can drain you of energy for weeks. I slept for two days straight the first time I cast a spell and that was just to clean a pot.”

“I’m okay.” 

“You need food. I know what you’re thinking, but you can take the time and eat and get some strength back before trying to save the world again. Honestly, Blaine.”

Blaine acqueises. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels terrible, drained of energy and stretched thin. 

“Here, let’s find the kitchen and something to eat. I bet it’s just down the hall.” Blaine’s barely listening as they stumble down the hall, concentrating on lifting his feet. He’s acutely aware of the way Kurt feels and smells, aware of his lean torso pressed against his, supporting him as always. 

Had he imagined Kurt kissing him, telling him that he loved him? Kurt seems so matter of fact now, but Blaine’s pretty sure that he’s not imagining the way that Kurt blushes when he looks over, or the way that he pulls Blaine closer while helping him down the corridor. He starts to lean in, wanting to feel the stubble on Kurt’s jaw, learn Kurt’s taste– and Kurt’s cheery voice breaks through those feverish thoughts. “Here we are! I’ll go look through the larders. I’m sure we can find some bread and cheese and– who are you?” His voice hardens and his hand tightens across Blaine’s waist, forcing him slightly behind.

Blaine looks up. For a moment, he doesn’t recognize the lean, scruffy bearded man, with hands immersed in soapy water, who is gaping at them and reaching for the closest object for defense. There’s something in his stature and eyes that comes together in familiarity and his mouth asks before his exhausted mind catches up entirely. “Cooper?”

The pan tumbles to the floor with a crash. “Blaine? What? Oh my god, Blaine, is that you?” Cooper pushes Kurt aside and scoops Blaine up in a hug. Blaine starts crying again, tears leaking onto the shoulder of his long lost brother.

“I don’t understand.” Blaine says as he pulls back to look at him. Cooper speaks over him. “What are you doing here, Blainey?”

“I came to rescue you. Kurt and I, we, we just defeated Sue. I think. She’s in a glowing … thing back there.” He gestures vaguely behind him. 

Cooper hugs him again. “You defeated Sue! You did it! Quinnie, did you hear?” He yells out and dances Blaine around. 

Blaine stumbles and pushes his brother away, not sure why he’s yelling for the queen. “But Kurt says that it didn’t break old enchantments. How are you here? How are you awake?”

Cooper suddenly looks sheepish. “Oh that. Well. I broke the enchantment a couple of years ago.” 

“A couple of years! Coop, people have been looking for you! Soldiers and knights and they put their lives in danger to bring you home. Mother has been a shadow of a ruler in her grief and you’re telling me that you’ve been here for two years?”

“To be fair, I hadn’t realized that it was that long.” Cooper grins and shrugs. 

Blaine pushes Cooper’s arm off of him. “I think you need to tell me what’s going on.” 

“That may take a little more explaining. Or rather— Quinnie!” He calls out. “Quinn! She just went out to gather the eggs. She’ll be back in a moment. Now, sit. Let me grab you a bite of food. I heard you were hungry.” 

Blaine sits down heavily. None of this is making any sense and his head has started to ache behind his eyes. Cooper and Kurt settle down at the table beside him, spreading out bread and assorted jellies. He hears Kurt asking questions about the type of spell that Sue had used on him. “It was a sleeping spell, I believe,” Cooper answers, “one charmed to be broken only with true love’s kiss. Sue doesn’t believe in love, so to her, it’s the perfect spell.” 

Kurt blushes again and leans closer to Cooper, listening as if every word he says is utterly fascinating. “How did you end up breaking it then?”

“Sue hoards those she’s enchanted, but she also loves to make bargains. Exchanges for weather spells or barters for curses, that sort of thing. Quinn had come to her in distress—”

“I was unmarried and with child and didn’t know what to do.” A voice in the doorway interrupts. The young woman looks bemused more than concerned, as she juggles a basket of eggs and a young child on her hips. “I hope these are friends, Cooper, as you have just destroyed any pretense of secrecy.” 

“Quinn!” Cooper leapt to his feet and kissed the woman, dancing her around much as he had Blaine. “Blaine conquered Sue! You’re free!”

Quinn smiles wide and kisses him again. “I told you we just needed to be patient. You gotta let me set these eggs down, Coop; it’s hard enough dancing around the baby. I assume these young gentlemen were the ones who bested Sue.” She hands the child over to Cooper, who clings to his chest while staring bashfully at the strangers. 

“Quinn, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to my younger brother, Blaine, and his companion—”

“Kurt. I’m his– I’m Kurt.”

“Blaine and Kurt. And this is Princess Lucy Quinn from the kingdom of Mackinly and this shy little lady is Elizabeth. My daughter.” He jostles her slightly. “Can you say hi, Beth?”

Blaine stares. The words process slowly in his overworked brain. “Your daughter? Princess? From Mackinly? Didn’t you spend several months there? There was some kind of scandal and father had to fetch you back.”

Cooper coughs. “Yes, well. Quinn and I were acquainted back then. _Intimately_. If you get my meaning.”

“I’m sure he does.” Quinn remarks wryly. 

“Her parents found out about our relations and I was unceremoniously thrown out the door. I hadn’t realized at the time that Quinn was, to put it delicately, ‘in the family way,’ or I never would have left.”

“I was pregnant and desperate.” Quinn fills in. “My parents disowned me. Sue promised me a return to my parents’ favor and an unbreakable memory charm in exchange for my child, and in a moment of weakness, I agreed. But the night I birthed Beth, I realized that I could never give her up, so when Sue came to claim her, I refused. She went into a rage and demanded that I fulfill the contract. I had no choice. I came here as her servant.” 

“Meanwhile, Sue had brought me here, in a state of unconsciousness. She put me up in one of the rooms upstairs, as if I was a guest with too much to drink. One day, Quinn found me and recognized my handsome face. She kissed me and, what do you know, that broke the spell.” 

“But why didn’t you come home after that?” Blaine questions. 

“Quinn was still bound by the contract. Seven years of servitude she had to provide or she’d have to forfeit Beth. I wasn’t going to leave her and Beth.”

“Sue didn’t care that you had broken the spell?” Kurt asks, fascinated.

“No, not really. I don’t think Sue recognized me as the prince or even remembered why she had cursed me in the first place. I kept out of the way and she pretended I didn’t exist. She always had a soft spot for Quinn - I think she was a favorite of hers.”

Quinn sniffs. “I’m not sad about the hag. She trapped me here for years. I couldn’t leave - once we tried to escape but we just walked around in circles until we found ourselves back at the gates. There have been several knights who attempted rescues but they were turned into toads or placed in eternal sleep. Sue wasn’t particularly inventive in her punishments.”

The headache has evolved into a persistent throb. Blaine can barely follow the conversation and he just wants to sleep. Kurt murmurs something to Cooper and Quinn, and leans over Blaine. “Come on. Quinn has a room prepared where we can rest.” Kurt wraps his arm back around Blaine and lifts him up. 

Kurt pulls the curtains closed as Blaine sits heavily down on the oh-so-soft bed. He tries to tug at his boots but the buckles slip out of his fingers. Kurt kneels down beside him. “Here. Let me help.” He slides the buckle out. “There we go.” He pulls off the boot and rests his hand on Blaine’s foot. Kurt looks nervous. “Blaine. There’s something else that you should know.”

Blaine’s not sure he can take more today, but he nods.

“When you found me that day, I was casting a spell. A scrying spell. To find my purpose for my final year of my apprenticeship. And you stepped in and the spell centered around you and bound me to you.”

“Bound you. To me.” Blaine repeats.

“Yes. It’s complicated to explain, but basically it made it so that I had to follow you and help you complete your quest. Remember when we went to Adayn? Carmen tried to break the spell without hurting you, but she was unsuccessful. The spell broke with Sue’s enchantment. It may have been part of why the enchantment didn’t work, I don’t know, we’ll have to study it more.”

The words mush in his brain. “You had to follow me. You didn’t have a choice.”

“Then, yes.”

“Then.” _And now_? He wants to ask, but the words stick in his throat. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He doesn’t want to think that Kurt had never wanted to be here. That Kurt— “Kurt, I’m tired. I’m so tired. May we talk about this in the morning?”

Kurt squeezes his foot and makes quick removal of the second boot. “Yes, of course. Lie down, we’ll talk in the morning.”

Blaine barely registers the texture of the pillow underneath his head before he tips into oblivious slumber. His last memory is of a fleeting pressure, like a soft kiss, on his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your comments about this one! Thanks so much for reading.


	8. Chapter 7

Blaine sleeps, dreamlessly and deeply, for nearly two days. He arouses briefly a few times to relieve his body and Kurt is there with food and drink that he gratefully consumes before tipping back into slumber again. He has a memory of an arm around him, holding him close, as his consciousness drifts towards wakefulness in the early morning of the second night before he submerges again. When he fully awakens, refreshed but slightly disoriented at the long passage of time, the bed is empty with only a slight disarrangement of the comforter to suggest that somebody slumbered beside him.

Blaine stretches on the luxurious bed, relishing the feel of the soft give of the mattress beneath him. Kurt’s blankets may have given additional protection from the hard forest floor, but it pales in comparison to the goose-down mattress. For the first time in days, his body moves without aches and kinks.

He lies in bed for a while longer, clearing his mind of the cobwebs and disorientation of the previous days. He’s still reeling from the near entrapment into Sue’s spell—he shudders at the memory of the sickly, thick sleep that had threatened to drag him down—and then discovering his brother alive and awake with a new family. He admits that he still is bitter that Cooper hadn’t thought to at least send word that he was alright, even if he can grudgingly understand why.

And then there was Kurt. Kurt who had saved him and broke the spell. Kurt who—if his memories aren’t tainted by the spell—had kissed him and told him that he loved him.

Kurt has been the perfect companion throughout the trip, never complaining while finding ways to make things better for the both of them. He flashes to those days on horseback and the nights by the fire where they talked for hours. How Blaine wished then and now that he could talk to Kurt for the rest of his life, never tiring of his wit and fortitude.

He knows that he’s had feelings developing for Kurt. He thinks back on that first moment they met, when Kurt’s lilting, clear voice and handsome face made him stumble in the clearing, stirring an unfamiliar attraction. Blaine felt like he found something that had been missing his entire life and that sense of completion has only solidified more in their weeks together. He can finally admit to himself that these feelings have been there since the beginning; he just hadn’t allowed himself to consider Kurt as more than a friend, so fixated he has been on finding and rescuing Cooper.

And now, just when he’s allowing himself to acknowledge the depth of his attraction, Kurt tells him that he had been cursed as well, forced to come with him. That stings deeply. Kurt hasn’t acted like he had been enslaved to Blaine’s whims, though, and Blaine’s pretty sure that he knows Kurt well enough by now to know that Kurt doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t want to. Kurt certainly wouldn’t have kissed him if he hadn’t wanted to, right? Had he imagined that kiss? Maybe he had imagined the conversation with Kurt too.

Blaine shakes himself out of his pensive thoughts. If he’s learned anything these last few weeks, it’s that he and Kurt connect best when they can be honest with each other. He needs to talk to Kurt, figure out what’s developing between them, now that there are no secrets and no quests keeping them apart. His bath with this resolution is quick, but he finds himself slowing to find just the right outfit to impress Kurt. After weeks of alternating between shirts that never got clean enough, Cooper’s wardrobe of crisp shirts and pressed trousers gives him options to show off his best assets. He settles on a thin billowy shirt and a waistcoat of burgundy red that complements his dark curls and sets off to search the castle.

Downstairs, he finds Kurt cursing as he faces the mirror in the hall. “Mirror mirror, what is that?! That’s not what I asked, you stupid bat!” Kurt yells and pounds on the edge of the mirror.

_I’m trying, you should blame Sue. Call me a bat again and I’ll give you a talking to._ The mirror huffs and turns milky white.

“Mirror, dear, I apologize. With Adayn’s mirror, will you synchronize?” Apparently mollified, the mirror changes to spirals of gold as it attempts to make the connection. At Blaine’s laugh, Kurt catches Blaine’s eye and gives him a slow, delighted smile that makes him weak in the knees. “Blaine! You’re awake!”

He fights a lingering yawn. “I am. What did I miss?”

“Not too much really. It’s been more challenging that I anticipated making connection with Adayn. Sue hasn’t updated any of her equipment in years and it was all in need of repairs. And word has spread across the castle about Sue’s capture. The castle is quite buzzing with gossip, let me tell you. Are you feeling better? Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log.” Blaine answers, “and you?”

Kut flushes, “Like a log. Blaine—”

_Adayn is on the mirror: can you hear or is this clearer?_ The gold spiral on the mirror shimmers loudly, interrupting them.

An outline of a woman takes form in the center and solidifies. “Kurt? Kurt? Is that you?”

“Rachel! Is Madame Carmen there? Sue attempted to cast a spell on Blaine and I’m afraid it recoiled on Sue. I need her to check the fey lines to make sure they’ll hold.”

“You broke a spell? Kurt, that’s advanced magic! What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t exactly intend for this to happen. That’s why I need Madame’s help.”

“Mr. Hummel.” Madame Tibideaux slides into view, studying Kurt intently. “What kind of trouble have you found yourself in now, hmm?”

With Kurt’s focus back on the mirror, it’s obvious that heartfelt conversations will need to wait until the situation with Sue is settled. His hopes to catch Kurt for a private moment dashed, Blaine turns to find breakfast instead and tries to remind himself that there will be other chances.

After breakfast, however, Blaine finds himself conscripted into carrying crates to carts, as Cooper and Quinn want to leave the castle as quickly as possible now that the curse has been lifted. The castle servants, who had also been enslaved by Sue, are also eager to leave and go back to the families they’ve left behind and the castle bustles with activity—how he ever thought that the castle was deserted is laughable as he weaves through pockets of people packing crates.

Any opportunity to take Kurt aside quickly vanishes. Lugging the crates does mean that he passes Kurt frequently, who is busy probing the magical tangles with Madame’s assistance. Kurt glances up with that sweet, heart-stopping smile every time Blaine crosses the room which burns into Blaine’s chest and lightens his load for a few moments.

They all regroup for an early supper, where Cooper dominates the conversation describing his adventures for the past two years which, if he were to be believed, include saving a family from starvation and rescuing a baby rabbit from an attacking hawk. Blaine struggles to catch Kurt’s eye but he’s engrossed in Cooper’s stories, hanging onto every word. Blaine tries squashes his jealousy - he’s pretty sure that the scowl gives him away.

Cooper keeps him busy the rest of the day with packing and loading up of the castle. It’s grueling work and, not unsurprising given his brother’s fondness for extravagance, Cooper wants to pack up everything. Blaine firmly puts his foot down and limits their cargo to two carts behind their pack mules to Cooper’s loud protests.

“Let me,” Kurt interrupts their bickering. He waves a small wand over one of the carts. Sparks dance and settle on the surface. “There. Rachel created this spell a couple of years ago. It collapses things to a quarter of their size so you can pack more.”

“That’s why you could carry all those blankets!” Blaine exclaims in answer. “I had wondered.”

“It makes packing so much simpler. It really only works on fabrics, though, so I’d leave the other cart for furniture.”

Blaine has so many questions. “The campfires? Did you light them with magic?”

“No.” Kurt rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m a blacksmith’s kid; my da taught me how to light a fire before I was two.”

“Aren’t fairies allergic to iron?”

“Again, blacksmith’s kid. I think it’s just a rumor.”

“Hunter? Sebastian?” Blaine questions, “Did you spell them?”

“I’ve taken an oath not to hurt others with my magic. But, I added a slight enchantment that those who meant ill would be drawn to the potion.”

“What else did you do? On our trip, I mean.”

“Not much, really. I was so nervous that I’d get caught or attract unwanted attention. Fairies… aren’t well regarded right now. And I didn’t know how any magic would interact with your spell.”

The spell. Right. Blaine’s been so busy, he had almost forgotten about that last confession. “What did—”

“Blaine!” Cooper calls from another room—Blaine hadn't noticed him leaving. “Can you come grab this end? Hurry!”

He gives an apologetic look to Kurt who laughs. “Go rescue your brother. That’s what we came here to do, right?”

It’s long after dark when Blaine wearily makes his way to the bedroom where he had slept the night before. His candle casts shadows against the wall. The silence is unnerving; he feels acutely that he is currently in the home of a mad woman, who enchanted now or not, had attempted to curse him. Blaine’s heart thumps hard as he turns down the blanket, for in the flickering glow, there appears to be a lump on the bed. He leans closer and the glow alights on Kurt’s face, eyelashes fanned on his cheek, his mouth slack open with sleep.

Blaine quietly removes his outerwear, blows out the candle, and climbs in the bed beside Kurt. He carefully rolls over, as his eyes adjust to the darkness, so he can just make out the profile of Kurt’s pert nose. He can’t resist threading his fingers through the silky strands of Kurt’s hair that now rests against his forehead. Kurt murmurs slightly in his sleep and flops his arm across Blaine. His breathing evens out again. Blaine curls closer under Kurt’s arm, matching his breaths. Soon he follows him into sleep.

* * *

Kurt is gone again when Blaine awakens the next morning and, while Blaine is disappointed that whispered confessions while cuddling in bed aren’t going to be happening, the lingering memory of being held close by a sleeping Kurt buoys his hopes. They are on the cusp of something life-changing and lasting. If it takes a little longer because of their respective responsibilities, well, Blaine can be an adult and accept that. Grudgingly.

What to do with Sue’s menagerie of spelled royalty and knights caught in inanimate sleep or frozen in stone faces the company that morning. Stored in a back room, she appeared to have long forgotten about the dozen unfortunate souls, if the spiderwebs are any clue. Kurt and Blaine manage to drag them all into the great hall, when Quinn reminds them of the enchanted frogs in the solarium. They open the greenhouse door to pandemonium. Blaine wrinkles his nose at the smell and noise.

“I don’t think there were that many knights and princesses before. I think they copulated.” Quinn remarks.

“Will they remain frogs or turn into children when we break the curse? And what if those baby frogs then had baby frogs?” Cooper wonders. Blaine shudders and tries very hard not to think about it.

The spells that Kurt casts, with the guidance of Madame Carmen through the mirror, have no effect in returning the cursed to wakefulness or to non-amphibian life, so Blaine has to rearrange the carts to find room to transport them to Adayn for further testing. Quinn reassures them that, if all else fails, she knows of a few princesses who would be willing to kiss a sleeping prince or a frog in hopes of making a good marriage match. Blaine shudders again for entirely different reasons.

Sue they leave behind. Kurt worries about the stability of the broken curse without reinforcement during the long trip back and Blaine isn’t anxious to confront her again. He and Blaine carefully move her to a room in the center of the castle, where she’ll remain after they leave.

Kurt pronounces himself satisfied with the spells that now surround the glowing, sleeping form of Sue. “They’re more of a protection for her, a warning system.” He explains to Blaine. Now that his secret is out, Kurt’s eager to talk about his work with anybody who wants to listen, and Blaine, for his part, hangs onto every word he says. Kurt’s passion is more than a little intoxicating.

“She’s caught in her hundred year curse - see those lines underneath there? They’re reinforcing the spell, so external spells just bounce off. So we created a second spell to lay on top to cushion it a little. It’ll sting anybody who has motives to hurt her—I couldn’t leave her here to be tormented or raped by some pillaging ruffin. It could all still be broken by one who loves her. Even villains deserve love after all.”

Blaine falls a little more in love with that.

They manage to leave the castle at midday despite the setbacks with a sprawling caravan of horses and carts, goats and sheep that wind their way out of the castle yard and into the surrounding forest. The blizzard had disappeared with Sue’s defeat, the snow melting in the summer heat, and it’s all nearly unrecognizable from their journey just a few days ago.

Kurt rides beside him on Pavarotti in the warm afternoon as they depart. They don’t say much but the atmosphere between them is charged and expectant. Kurt, as always, looks composed and light in the saddle, hair perfectly aloft despite the cloying humidity. Blaine can’t look away. He coughs as Kurt catches his eye. “You look good. I mean. It’s nice having fresh clothes to wear, right?”

Kurt wrinkles his nose. “Not even magic can get rid of the smoke and dirt embedded in my shirts from this journey. But it’s such a relief having you know the truth about me being a fairy. Now I can finally wear some of the outfits I packed without worrying that you might question where it came from.”

“Ah, Squirt!” Cooper rides up beside them, Beth in his lap, wide-eyed as she takes in the new scenery, with Quinn ambling up on her steed behind them. “We are finally on the road, headed back home. I wonder what has changed in my absence.”

Blaine is disappointed by the interruption, but he doesn’t want to ask Kurt about the magic around his family. Of course, Cooper and Quinn know that Kurt is a fairy, but they aren’t aware of Kurt’s curse. He shoves the conversation aside again.

Beth reaches out for Blaine as soon as she is close. “Lo there, Niblet. Want to ride with me for a bit?”

“Uh huh.” She cuddles up to his chest and Blaine slides an arm around her, keeping her safe. Blaine initially thought that his niece was quiet and shy - that impression had quickly changed once she had warmed up to him. Beth chattered non-stop for the last two days as they packed—he understands three words of a dozen of what she says, but she doesn’t seem to mind as long as he pauses and ‘mmms’ at the right time. She barely left “Unca Aine’s” side, except to scamper to Kurt once she saw him doing some magic.

She twists in his arms once she notices Kurt riding beside them. “Unca Kur, make bird!”

Kurt smiles down at his new small friend and that feeling of overwhelming affection blossoms in Blaine’s chest again. “Just this once, Beth.” He twists his hands and a small black paper bird appears in his hands. It flaps its wings and chirps as he passes it over to Beth. She squeaks in delight.

Cooper looks over at his daughter fondly. “You know, Blaine. Fatherhood has been transformative. Having somebody to love and protect, watching them become a new person—I never thought that that would be me.”

“You have done remarkably well, Cooper.” Blaine says, sincerely. His brother has taken on the responsibilities of leadership of their small band easily, and it’s obvious in his easy interactions with Quinn and Beth that he has been a devoted father and companion - something Blaine never would have expected.

“I want this for you too, Blainey. A wife to provide you companionship and warmth at night, like my Quinnie, and children to bless your union and continue your lineage.”

Blaine fidgets in discomfort. He’s certainly deflected questions about courtship before but he’s acutely aware of Kurt’s presence. “Uh, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense. The first thing we’ll do when we return is throw a ball in your honor. I am sure when the young ladies hear of your valor in rescuing me—”

“But I didn’t—”

“They will flock to your side in adoration and you’ll have your choice of the most beautiful princesses of the country.”

“Excuse me,” Kurt states, no longer smiling, “The cart looks unsteady. I, I must help out.” He doesn’t look at Blaine as he abruptly reigns in the horse and heads back to the other travelers.

Blaine wants to curse, but he holds his tongue for his niece’s sake. “I don’t need your help, Cooper.”

“You’ve taken on far too many responsibilities because of my absence. It’s time for me to take on the duties of Crown Prince and it’s time that you get to experience romance. I know a few young ladies who would--”

“You may be a prince, but you are also a fool.” Quinn interrupts.

Cooper looks affronted. “My love!”

“You hated those balls that your parents threw you. You told me yourself you felt like a specimen on display, for others to poke and point and judge. And you want that for your brother?”

“I’m only trying to help out!”

“We didn’t meet that way and I certainly hope that you won’t be entertaining this idea for our daughter someday.” Quinn points out.

“My daughter won’t ever marry, I’ll make sure of that.” Cooper protests and Quinn lets out another loud bark.

“Wonderful, you’re already trying to control our daughter, just like my parents. May I remind you that we aren’t married yet either? Or is that your plan? To throw a ball for Blaine but you’ll use it to find yourself a more ideal wife than I and I’ll be tossed aside.” She sniffs and nudges her horse into a gallop.

Cooper turns his horse to follow her. “Quinnie! How could you say that? We are spiritually wedded, my heart bound to yours! How could you doubt my undying devotion to you, Quinnie? Quinnie!”

Blaine watches them leave, thoroughly discouraged by the turn of the afternoon. Beth seems unaware of the disturbance and she chats to the paper bird that rests and chirps in her hands. “Come on, Niblet, what shall we name it?”


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA the chapter where the fic finally earns its rating. For those wanting a less explicit version of this chapter, I'm also posting over at ff.net and you can [read it over there](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13486707/9/Love-Me-At-Once).

The caravan doesn’t make much progress that day, as expected for a group their size, and they stop in a clearing for the night beside the river. 

“We need more wood for the fire,” Quinn announces. She and Cooper appear to have mended any disagreements, if their ruffled clothes are any indication when they emerge from the woods. 

Blaine volunteers swiftly, “I’ll go.”

“Better go with him, Kurt. Bring back a big load. We’ll have dishes to wash afterwards.” Blaine’s pretty sure that he’s not imagining the wink she sends him. He’s become quite fond of his sister-in-law-to-be. 

They walk deeper into the woods, stopping occasionally to gather pine cones and thicker branches. Kurt walks ahead of Blaine, carefully putting distance between them. That awkward discomfort from this afternoon still lingers between them and Blaine hates it. He wants their easy companionship again, wants that blossoming possibility. He wants - he wants more and he needs answers. When they’re far from probing eyes and ears, Blaine gathers up his courage. “We, uh, haven’t had a chance to talk about that night.”

Kurt stops abruptly and turns to look at him. He’s blushing. “No, we really haven’t, have we.”

“Tell me about the spell.”

Kurt blinks. “Oh. Which one?”

“The one which I interrupted and apparently ensnared you.”

Kurt stares. “Ensnared? You thought that?”

“That’s what you said.”

“Oh no, that’s. I, um, I ensnared _you_.”

“I’m not following.”

Kurt drops his small pile of twigs, sits down on a fallen log and pats the space next to him. “Sit, I’ll explain more.” Blaine perches close, angling towards Kurt. “As I told you, I’m a fairy. I was born a fairy, although I didn’t know that until I was eight, when I commanded my teddy bear to talk. My mother was a lake fairy who fell in love with my father; she died when I was very young, so Da never knew what to look for - I think my talking toy startled him more than me! I taught myself some simple spells, but I didn’t know much, and what I did know, I had to hide it from others. Fairies aren’t well accepted, precisely because of people like Sue who use their powers wrongly.”

Blaine reaches for Kurt’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Kurt.” 

Kurt squeezes back and makes no attempt at dropping Blaine’s hand. “I met Carmen when I was fourteen. She established her school for the untrained fairy - those, who for some reason or another, have lost their connection to the fairy world. Rachel was a changeling child and abandoned by her parents as a baby. Mercedes was the first fairy in generations in her family and Santana has never told me about her family, but something awful happened. I’ve never pressed. You met some of the other students and borders, but I’m closest to them and we’ve been at the school for almost five years now.”

Blaine nods in understanding, encouraging Kurt to continue.

“I’ve been feeling a little directionless for some time now. I’ll be finishing up schooling in another year or two and I have no idea what I should be doing next. And then my Da got sick and I left to take care of him. That’s why I was at home when we met, as you know.” Kurt runs his thumb over Blaine’s palm, tracing the lines slowly as he seems to gather his thoughts. “That day in the grove, I had cast a spell, one to help me find my purpose, my mission. And you walked up, handsome and regal, and for a moment, I thought I had conjured you from thin air. Like my teddy bear.” Kurt smiles shyly at Blaine. 

“I’m real enough, I think.” He teases. 

“Quite real.” Kurt tightens his grip. “You walked directly into the center of the ley lines without even realizing it. I couldn’t even warn you.”

“I didn’t feel them.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You haven’t an ounce of the fae in you.” Kurt laughs and then turns serious. “But you were caught in my spell. I could sense it swirling around you and then settling like glue, and I didn’t know why you were there or if you had been lured in or if you were purposely trying to destroy everything. I tried to send you on your way, but there was this giant _pull_ towards you. I felt it in everything.”

“You were trapped then.”

“No, no. I could have left at any time. It was you, you were the one trapped. Because of my spell, your plan to rescue Cooper became a compulsion, a magical quest that you couldn’t walk away from. You had to defeat Sue or you would go mad or even die.”

“Kurt.”

“I had to come with you. Make sure you succeeded because I couldn’t bear the thought of someone innocent dying because of my haphazard spell. Then I got to know you,” Kurt chokes up, “and you dying would have killed me. I couldn’t let that happen. I figured I would be the secret weapon. If Sue didn’t know that I was a fairy, I could protect you, until you killed her. I should have known that you with your big heart would try to sacrifice yourself instead. I wasn’t prepared for that, and I almost lost you.”

Kurt’s crying then, a slow escape of tears sliding down his cheeks, avoiding Blaine’s eyes. “I was too slow. Before I was able to cast a counterspell, you were trapped. I distracted her and she lost control of spell. But you-you-.” He glances at Blaine, the tears falling freely. “I’m so sorry, Blaine. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes out, reaching out to wipe the tears away. Kurt looks up with so much hope and pain. “ _Kurt._ ”

Heart beating in his chest, he can’t resist any longer. Blaine leans over and kisses Kurt, hand cupping Kurt’s jaw with gentle pressure, drawing him closer. Kurt stills and then with a sigh, melts against Blaine and kisses back, a gentle learning of lips. Blaine’s beating heart calms with the rightness of this moment. 

Blaine pulls away. Kurt looks stunned yet happy, rosy pink flushed across his cheeks, vulnerable and open and beautiful. Blaine cradles his face, thumbs rubbing over his jaw. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he murmurs, and wipes away the tears that spill anew. Kurt nods and leans in for another kiss that takes Blaine’s breath away. 

When they part, Blaine is breathing heavily. He looks away with a blush. “We should - should we get back?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No.”

“No?” He gets out and Kurt surges forward, kissing him again, opening his mouth and drawing Blaine in. Gentle kisses become demanding in an instant. Fire warms Blaine’s core as he presses deeper, wrapping his arms tight around Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt, for his part, is insistent, tugging Blaine closer. With a smooth move that makes him huff against Kurt’s lips, he lifts Blaine up onto his lap, hands shifting down to rest on Blaine’s hips, while never breaking the kiss.

Kurt pulls away and before Blaine can even open his eyes, he’s sucking firm kisses under Blaine’s jaw and along his neck. Blaine whines, the fire burning hotter and settling deep into his pelvis as he struggles to get closer, infinitely closer to Kurt. His breath comes out in pants as he tilts his neck to Kurt’s exploring lips and he shudders when Kurt nips at his collarbone. His body rocks forward, almost on its own, seeking Kurt’s answering friction. 

Blaine pulls at Kurt’s clothing, needing to touch his skin. Frustrated by the layers, he reaches between them, tugging at Kurt’s breeches and his fingers brush against Kurt’s prominent bulge—

Kurt gasps and lurches into Blaine’s touch and promptly loses his precarious balance, toppling them backwards off the log. “Oof!” Kurt huffs as Blaine’s weight pushes him into the forest floor. 

Blaine scrambles to his knees. “Kurt? Are you hurt?” 

Kurt stares up at Blaine, and then starts shaking, body racking in laughter. Blaine can’t help it and joins in, laughing at the absurdity of it all, collapsing next to Kurt in giggles. He looks over at Kurt and laughter bubbles up again, and they laugh until their sides cramp.

They lie side by side as the mirth fades. Blaine stares up at the whispering trees, embarrassment replacing his amusement, the fire in his groin fading. “I… apologize for my… impropriety.”

“Blaine.” He feels Kurt’s fingers tangling through his. “Look at me, Blaine.” Blaine looks over to see that heart-twisting smile that he has grown so fond of. “I rather liked what you were doing.”

“You did?”

Kurt’s smile turns coy, as he deliberately brings his hand to the front of his breeches, undoing the small buttons and pushing the flap down. “I did and I would like you to continue.” 

Blaine stares dumbly at sight of Kurt’s cock, plainly visible between the folds of fabric. The sight of Kurt, neatly and primly dressed in the latest fashions with kiss-reddened lips and debauched hair and his sex jutting out in invitation for Blaine’s gaze and touch, causes all lingering doubts to evaporate. Blaine twists to kneel over Kurt, leaning down to capture his lips in a lingering kiss. “Would you now?” He mouths at Kurt’s jaw, nipping at the soft skin. “Do you like this?”

Kurt sighs and tilts his head closer. “Mmm hmm.” 

“And this?” He sucks on his neck, relishing the slight differences in taste. 

Kurt takes longer to answer. “Yes.”

Blaine reaches between them, sliding his hand into the fold of Kurt’s breeches, cock coming aloft in his grip. “How about this?”

Kurt shudders. “Oh gods, Blaine,” he moans, a flush spreading down below the collar of his shirt. Blaine follows the flush with his tongue, mapping the sensitive spots on Kurt’s neck and collarbone, while his hand steadily grips Kurt’s warm, fattening erection. He admires the contraction of Kurt’s muscles, the way the skin slides taunt over hip bones, the tickle of fine hairs under his fingertips. He marvels at the feel of Kurt’s cock under his thumb as he swipes over the head and under the edge, the way it swells to fit in his palm as he squeezes. He caresses Kurt’s balls, rolls them soft in his fingers and delights as they tighten in anticipation. Every reaction of Kurt’s he catalogues - hands gripping Blaine’s shoulders, pulling Blaine down for an open kiss before breaking away to pant anew, hips twitching. Watching Kurt fall apart in his hands is overwhelming, a gift and reality that not even his most detailed daydreams could have prepared him. 

Unable to resist, Blaine dips down and swipes his tongue across his cock, collecting the beads of moisture at the tip before sliding his mouth down over the head, taking in the taste and texture of this intimate part of Kurt.

Kurt’s breathing increases, with raspy high-pitched moans on every exhale, and Blaine can’t take his eyes away. His own erection aches in his pants but Blaine ignores it in his need to watch Kurt give in to the surges of emotion, to love Kurt—

“Blaine!” Blaine pulls off as Kurt cries out his name and leans back in to capture Kurt’s mouth in another kiss, while his hand keeps steady pressure on Kurt’s stiffening erection. Kurt arches off the ground and Blaine has never witnessed anything so powerful and beautiful as Kurt, overcome with ecstasy, shuddering in his arms, cock pulsing and throbbing in his hand. 

Kurt is needy in his kisses in the aftermath, deep tender kisses interspersed with soft caresses of lips across Blaine’s cheeks and forehead, which Blaine returns eagerly. Which may be why Kurt’s firm grasp on his own cock is a surprise, breeches unbuttoned and pushed aside and it’s his turn to gasp as waves of pleasure rise and peak. Perched across Kurt’s strong body, feeling Kurt’s broad chest underneath his groping hands, Kurt’s own hand on him, warm and sure, Kurt’s eyes never leaving his face - bliss crashes through over him in mere minutes.

After Kurt’s cleaned them with a handkerchief and fastened buttons more deftly than Blaine could manage, they walk back to the camp, hand in hand. Their disheveled appearance attracts attention from their companions and a few wolf-whistles, and Blaine grins broadly in response. Kurt’s cheeks are pink but he makes no attempt at pulling away. 

Cooper stirs a pot near a large fire with Elizabeth on his hip. “Blaine?” Cooper questions, “where have you been and what…” He trails off at the sight of their entwined hands, uncertainty in his voice.

In answer, Blaine lifts Kurt’s hand and kisses it. “I told you, dear brother, that I do not need your assistance to make a match.” 

Cooper stares for another moment, and then claps Blaine firmly across on the shoulders, dropping the ladle into the soup. “You sly fox, you certainly have the royal charm! Quinn! Did you know about this?” 

Quinn takes one look at them and sighs. “I suppose you forgot the wood?” 

* * *

It’s three and a half weeks before they arrive in Clarington. He’d normally be itching to return home to his routine, although that’s bound to change with Cooper’s return, but he and Kurt are separating here in Clarington. Kurt is returning to Adayn to complete his studies and Blaine doesn’t know the next time he’s going to see him. He’s enjoyed every moment on the road with Kurt: conversations while riding horses where they chit chat about royal duties and the construction of spells, swinging Beth between them when they walk, cooking dinner over the fire while bantering with Cooper, sleeping next to Kurt with their legs entwined (Blaine doesn’t know how he’s ever going to sleep alone again), and stealing moments away from prying brothers and curious onlookers where he maps out every spot that makes Kurt gasp. With every moment and every discovery, Blaine falls more in love. 

Most of their motley group has departed by this time to return to their own lands and families or to seek new adventures with better monetary rewards. A few people continue along, as Cooper and Quinn have promised well-compensated work with generous holidays. Experiencing hard toil has shaped his pampered brother into a considerate man and those still in the company are loyal. 

Blaine is a little nervous as he approaches Clarington, memories of their stolen horses and harassment by the local gang at the forefront of his mind, but the town is quiet. Kurt grins broadly at the notice posted on the town sign announcing the date for the Warblers’ trial. 

“Kurt! Kurt! Blaine!” Blaine looks up to see a cluster of young women leaning out one of the inn’s windows.

“Mercedes! Rachel! What are you doing here?” Kurt calls up, delighted at their appearance. 

“We heard you were coming and Madame Carmen allowed us the day off to surprise you!” Mercedes replies.

“We ordered supper and beds at the inn for all of us,” Santana hollers, “alas, I forgot my money purse, so Prince Blaine will have to pay.” 

“Santana!” Kurt hisses.

“What? You’re bedding him, so I’m sure he won’t mind.” Santana winks salaciously. 

Mercedes and Rachel drop their jaws and start clamoring over each other. Kurt marches into the inn doggedly ignoring them. Blaine grins and follows him in.

Kurt’s friends are even more astonished by Cooper and Quinn’s appearance and drop into curtsies but that doesn’t stop them long from questioning Kurt about Blaine and demanding answers. Kurt’s tight-lipped about most of their romance but he easily holds Blaine’s hand and the teasing is good natured and loving. Rachel is magnanimous in her disappointment that Blaine has been claimed by her best friend. "We make beautiful music together, Prince Blaine, but Kurt also has a beautiful voice and I'm sure you two will be just as lovely together." In the gentle encouragement, Blaine relaxes as ale and chowder are shared around the table while Cooper boisterously regals them with the same tales of his bravery that Blaine has now heard a dozen times. 

“Blaine! You’re back! How was your resurrection?” The blonde, self proclaimed oracle plops down beside him.

“Brittany?” He questions. “What are you doing here?” At Kurt’s puzzled look, he explains, “Brittany is an oracle who works at the inn in Westerville. I met her when I was just getting started, right before I met you.” 

She beams. “You remember me! I was so afraid that with your death you would have forgotten.”

“I. I didn’t die.”

“You didn’t? But you’re returning home triumphantly! You should have been resurrected, undergone ascension by this point!”

Unbidden, his mind lingers on the memory of Kurt’s hands touching his skin. Ascension is one word for the bliss that Kurt coaxes from his body. He doesn’t think that this is what Brittany is referring to and he blushes when Kurt knowingly catches his eye. “No deaths here.”

“How did you defeat your enemy then, without the blessing of the gods?”

“I didn’t. Cooper broke his sleeping curse before I even got there. And Kurt’s the one who defeated Sue.”

Kurt shakes his head in disagreement. “Not really. All I did was distract her. The curse collapsed on Sue - in the end Sue defeated Sue.”

“You broke the spell on me, though.” Blaine argues back. “The sleeping spell. When you kissed me. That’s when I could move again.”

“I didn’t - oh.”

“Quinn says it would break with true love’s kiss.” Blaine’s face heats up. He hasn’t said that word to Kurt, even though he feels it in every heartbeat. Kurt’s mouth opens in response. 

“I don’t understand.” Brittany interrupts. “You were supposed to be the hero! He’s supposed to be your prize!” She gestures at Kurt.

Blaine shrugs. Prophecies mean little to him, especially after their long journey. “I guess it was a different adventure than what you foresaw.”

Kurt lifts his hand and kisses his palm. “Blaine is the bravest man I know. You should have seen how he stood up to Sue. He’ll always be my hero.”

Santana snorts loudly. “Wanky.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter since you’re getting your happily ever after,” Brittany starts to say, then trails off as she notices Santana in the corner. “Oh. It’s _you_.” She breathes.

Santana frowns. “Have we met?” 

“No. I am your downfall and your salvation. I just didn’t think that happened in this story.” 

Santana blushes madly and for once, seems speechless. She stands up abruptly. “Excuse me. I think I need to have my future read.” She grabs Brittany’s hand and rushes them out of the room. 

“Well!” Rachel proclaims, “I didn’t understand a single word that that woman said. Did any of you?” The group shook their heads, Blaine in bemusment. “Tell me more about this spell of Sue’s, Kurt! I can’t believe you didn’t bring her back with you.”

“Carmen didn’t want her moved until she could inspect her herself. I anticipate that we’ll go back in the spring for more testing and confirm we didn’t leave any spelled persons there. There were so many frogs, I’m afraid we missed some.” Kurt shudders. “And the princes will be sending soldiers next summer to tear down the castle. Hopefully that will weaken the ley lines of her power, so when we do break the curse, we can do it in a controlled fashion.”

“Do you think... could one of the frogs be Finn?” Rachel’s eyes shine. 

Kurt reaches over and holds her hand. “I don’t know. Madame says it’s going to take a lot more testing before we know anything.”

She nods and wipes her eyes, steering the conversation away from her missing love.

Blaine listens as Kurt talks animatedly with Rachel and Mercedes. He loves seeing Kurt in his element, but as the evening hours wan and their few hours together dwindle, he becomes more withdrawn. 

Kurt must have noticed his despondent mood, as he sends Mercedes and Rachel away for the evening and leads Blaine to their private quarters. There, they undress silently and slip under the covers, facing each other, with a single candle flickering light across their faces.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Blaine confesses. He hates how his voice cracks. “I know it’s the right decision, we both have responsibilities, but now that it’s here… I’m going to miss you so much, Kurt, I can’t even breathe thinking about how much, and it’s happening tomorrow-”

Kurt brushes his fingers through Blaine’s hair, pulling him close for a kiss. Blaine closes his eyes as Kurt brushes more feathered kisses across his eyelids, trails slow, gentle kisses across his forehead, down to the tip of his nose, across his cheek. “Kurt…” he breathes, tipping his head in search of Kurt’s lips.

“Shhh. Let me. I need to memorize you—map every part of you—take this memory with me. Let me–“ the pause is slight but significant, as he cups Blaine’s face with his hands, “let me love you, Blaine.” 

Blaine can only nod in acquiescence to the hands and lips tracing across his body. Kurt kisses lightly across his chest, sucks on his nipples that pebble at the sensation. He nips at his hips and upper thighs and Blaine throws his arm across his eyes because seeing Kurt’s opulent worship of his body will make this end much too soon. There’s a moment of reprieve from that, when Kurt finds a ticklish spot under his arm and Blaine writhes in unrestrained laughter and squeals as Kurt merciless tortures the sensitive areas, before soothing and distracting with deep, hungry kisses. 

Blaine is a tangle of heightened nerves and emotion, engulfed in love and lust for this man—this kind, good, funny, loving, sexy man—long before Kurt turns his attention to Blaine’s cock. At Kurt’s grasp, he whimpers and thrusts hard into his hand. Kurt lowers his head, draws Blaine into his hot, wet mouth, and every one of Blaine’s lingering constraints dissolve away. Kurt is singular in his devotion to his cock, sucking the sensitive head deep into his mouth and pressing his tongue firmly against the slit, with Kurt’s firm hand at the base, guiding him into maximal arousal. 

Pleasure builds as he seeks more - he can’t take more. Kurt takes him down deeper, that clever hand fondling at his balls, and he needs- more- there- oh gods!- and he shudders with the cresting release. 

Kurt curls up behind him, arm pulling Blaine close to his chest, erection nestled in the cleft of Blaine’s buttocks and legs, and Kurt thrusts against him with shallow movements. He feels every inch of Kurt pressed tightly against him and it’s still not enough. He turns in Kurt’s arms, tucks his leg in between Kurt’s and lets Kurt rut against him in desperation. Blaine wraps his hand around both of their cocks, Kurt’s fierce and hard and wanting, his spent and softening, and twists in rhythm to Kurt’s thrusts. It’s too much—it’s perfect. Kurt mouths along his neck, panting wetly as he comes apart. Blaine will never tire of the open adoration and trust that is the gift of Kurt surrendering to his heart’s desires. 

Blaine rests his head on Kurt’s chest, feeling its rise with every breath, listening to the comforting thump of his heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline dissipates. Kurt threads his fingers through Blaine’s hair, rubbing the tips of the curls with his fingers, and it’s in this perfect stillness that Blaine decides to speak his truth, early and rash that it might be. “I don’t want to leave you because I love you.” 

Kurt’s fingers stop and his hand is heavy on Blaine’s head, before he continues stroking. “I-I love you, too.” Blaine twists to take in his luminous smile - he’ll never tire of how it spreads over his face and rests in his eyes. They talk through the night, murmuring secrets in the velvety darkness, exposing hidden pains and flaws, and sharing wishes and dreams never told to others. As the dawn paints their room in gold in the early morning, they share one last moment of love-making, drawing out each other’s pleasure, before dressing and heading downstairs. 

The mood is somber as Blaine leads Blackbird out to the courtyard where Cooper and his family are waiting, his hand tightly encompassed by Kurt’s. Even Blackbird seems a little down, especially when she notices that Pavarotti is not amongst the caravan. She fidgets, stepping side to side, and halts abruptly. Blaine focuses his energy on calming his horse to hide the tears threatening to fall, until he can hand the reins over to Cooper to say this last goodbye. 

He turns to face Kurt, and, suddenly, Kurt is in his arms, hugging him fiercely. “I am never saying goodbye to you.”

Blaine can’t say anything, just nods and buries his head into Kurt’s shoulder for one last moment. He drinks Kurt in and then swings up onto Blackbird. He nudges the horse forward, determined not to cry. He can do this. They can do this. 

“So,” Cooper asks as they leave the village behind, breaking the silence abruptly, “is it too early to start planning the double wedding in the spring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue remaining, which will be posted next week. As always, many thanks for your likes and comments. I live for each one.


	10. Epilogue

The press of people steadily increases as the wagon creeps closer to the bustling city center. Kurt’s only been to the castle once in the last two years, but the streets definitely feel more crowded this time. The invitation to witness the naming ceremony of Prince Cooper and Princess Quinn’s new daughter had gone out to most of the kingdom and it looks as if many had decided to journey to the castle with the hopes of glimpsing the royal family. 

Cooper and Quinn sent a special invitation to Adayn, asking for Madame Carmen’s assistance in ensuring that no disgruntled fairy’s spells would spoil the celebration. His adopted sisters have talked about nothing since in the weeks leading up to the event. Though not about the development of the protective spells, oh no, their solitary focus has been regarding their clothing selection. The flurry of dresses and bonnets would usually draw Kurt in to state his opinions as he prides himself on his exquisite taste in fashion but his anxiety in seeing Blaine again increases with each passing day. 

It’s been two years since they met and two years that they’ve been apart. The two years have been incredibly challenging for the both of them. The catalyst for their meeting had been Kurt searching for meaning and direction in his life and boy, had he found it as he devoted his last years of training to the study of breaking enchantments and complex spells. With Madame Carmen’s recommendation, he had spent several months in intense study with elite fairies in Limae on the coast. It paid off. The sleeping spells had been the easiest to remove once he came home and the soldiers and various members of royalty returned to their homes with only a vague sense of emptiness and passing time where there should have been dreams. 

Finally, two months ago, he had had sudden inspiration where everything clicked and he had cracked the enchantment on the frogs, freeing them from their amphibian prisons. Sue had been malicious and indisterning in who she trapped in enchantments and many of the transformed were villagers that had been caught up in her wrath. Kurt had cried telling Blaine about their disorientation as they tried to remember how to be human and how he wished that he could fix that too. Blaine had been warm and understanding, but Kurt longed to be telling him in person, with Blaine’s arms securely around him. 

They had been together briefly the summer following the rescue, as Blaine led his soldiers, along with Kurt and Madame Carmen, back to the remote castle. Madame and Kurt worked on stabilization spells to transport the stupefied fairy safely back to Dalton. Meanwhile Blaine and his crew moved collections of objects they had left behind, once assured to be absent of any magical traps. While it had been wonderful to see Blaine again, their work had kept them busy enough that they barely saw each other outside of their shared bed, where they collapsed in exhaustion every night. 

Later that fall, Kurt had travelled to Dalton with Carmen for a longer visit, as Kurt’s work to safely break the sleeping spell had also discovered another spell that could subdue Sue’s magical powers for the trial. Blaine had balked at that, concerned that the same spell could be then used on Kurt or the other fairies, and he had insisted that the Royal Council draft binding laws about the legal use of the spell. His kindness and commanding presence left Kurt rather starry eyed for days after that. In the end, it was rather anticlimactic. The golden ley lines surrounding Sue disappeared with a loud pop and Sue gradually returned to consciousness, as the vestiges of sleep faded away. She strained against the bonds that held her, spitting that they would pay for this outrage, before she was taken to the prison cell to await her trial. 

That trip, he had formally met Blaine’s parents, the Queen and King Consort. It was an event that had Kurt’s knees shaking, although his stately bow betrayed none of his nervousness. Queen Andrea had been gracious and kind in her greeting of her son’s paramour and Consort Devon had instantly taken to Kurt, talking loudly about being commoners in a household of royals. Blaine had rolled his eyes whispering to Kurt “don’t listen to him; he was a duke before his marriage to my mother” which didn’t assuage Kurt of his feelings of inadequacy.

During his time at the castle, Kurt had established a magic mirror connection between Dalton and Adayn, and they’ve been in frequent communication since then, but it’s been a year since he was with Blaine in person and every day Kurt feels the distance more. Blaine has been busy - while Cooper has taken on most of the responsibilities of being the Crown Prince, he also appreciates Blaine’s expertise and calm negotiation skills and the brothers have been doing much of the daily work of running a kingdom together. Blaine always seems happy to see Kurt on the mirror but Kurt’s become more and more aware of how ill fitting their relationship is. It’s challenging not to fret about the uncertainties of their relationship. Blaine’s parents must be putting the pressure on Blaine to find a suitable marriage. A fling with a nobody—and a fairy at that!—is one thing but Kurt has no nobility or title, no connections to merge. He’s anxious with every mirror call that this will be the time that Blaine regretfully informs him that it’s over but it never comes, and each time it takes a little longer before he fully relaxes into the call.

When the invitation comes to Carmen to attend the naming, he knows that this is it. He’ll spend one beautiful week with Blaine and then, at the end of it, he’ll let Blaine go. It’ll hurt — his heart seizes at the mere thought of it — and Blaine will pretend that he doesn’t understand but secretly, he will be relieved that he hadn’t had to break Kurt’s heart. Blaine will get his happily ever after with the right prince and Kurt will… Kurt will find employment as a fairy in some village far away from Dalton so he’ll never have to hear about Blaine again. 

Burt offers to drive the carriage with Kurt to the city center for the naming and Kurt is relieved to have his Da with him to distract himself from his thoughts and impending doom. Kurt spells the carriage so it is large enough to transport Carole who is giddy at the thought of visiting the kingdom’s central city, along Madame Carmen, Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, and Brittany. She and Santana had been married the year before and barely left each other’s side. 

Burt doesn’t say much to his son the first days of their travel, listening instead to the constant excited chatter from the women in the carriage but, as they approach the castle gates with Kurt’s stomach feels like it’s going to twist into knots, Burt speaks up. 

“Alright, kid, you’re looking like you’re approaching the guillotine, instead of reuniting with the man you love. What gives?”

Kurt takes a deep breath and confesses, “I think Blaine and I are ending our relationship.” 

“Blaine tell you this?”

“No, of course not. Don’t you see, Da? It’s never going to work between he and I. It never was and we were fools to think differently. We’re worlds apart! He’s a prince and I’m- I’m not.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Kurt. You are every bit worthy of any prince or king.”

“You may be biased.” He mutters. Of course his da would think so, but that didn’t change reality. 

“That may be so, but I got good reason. You have always been destined for greater things than our little hamlet. I couldn’t be prouder of the man you’ve become.”

“Thanks, Da.” He’s touched by his father’s declaration. There had been some rough years when it had become evident that Kurt was a fairy and his father’s complete acceptance had been all that he had wanted. He has gotten it in spades over the years but, in hearing it again, some of his anxiety and fear melts away. 

Burt claps his son’s shoulder. “You need to talk to him, Kurt, and tell him what you’re feeling. It’s not fair to him to make one-sided decisions without knowing how he feels.”

Kurt nods. “You’re right. You’re right.”

“Of course I am. You shouldn’t be doubting your old man, kid.”

Blaine is waiting on the steps as the carriage pulls up in front of the castle and Kurt tumbles out of the vehicle into his arms. It feels so right, his arms tight around Blaine’s lithe waist and Blaine’s chin tucked over his shoulder, that he never wants to let go. But the girls’ clamor separates them too soon and Madame Carmen sets them all on unloading the carriage and setting up the first of the defense wards. Kurt looks apologetically at Blaine, who shrugs in understanding and kisses the back of Kurt’s hand before allowing them to their work. 

So much for getting to talk to him. 

* * *

The Naming Ceremony comes together without a hitch. The weather cooperates with golden skies of late summer and the baby gurgles and coos at just the right moments making the adoring audience aww in delight. Her Uncle Blaine agrees formally to be her godfather and guide, and her parents encircle her and proclaim blessings and wishes for a loved life. They then display the newly named Princess Aurora to the cheers of the crowd. 

Kurt stands to the side with the other fairies, prominently on display as guests of honor, and watches the proceedings. That was Quinn’s idea; she hopes that their involvement will help ease the distrust of fairies now that Sue has been fairly judged and sentenced for her crimes against the crown. Beth, now nearly four years old, had run up to him and refused to leave his side, telling him all about her toys and learning to read, so Kurt’s rests her on his hip during the ceremony. Quinn told him last night as they caught up that Beth has been feeling the pain of no longer being an only child, so Kurt’s happy to give her some extra attention. Particularly since it seems to draw her uncle’s gaze to them frequently. He misses a chunk of the naming ceremony due to the distraction of Blaine’s intense look. The way that Blaine fumbles and blushes on his way to the dias when the officiant calls his name for the second time with Wesbrook nudging him forward, conveys that Kurt isn’t the only one affected. 

The thundering applause that greets the newest Princess starts to die out and the crowd rustles and hums, gathering belongings to leave. Kurt jostles Elizabeth and turns to talk to Rachel.

A trumpet pierces the air in announcement. Startled, the murmur of the crowd dies off as all turn back towards the podium.

Rachel and Mercedes are grinning at him and he swears that Rachel is crying. Even Santana has a soft look on her face, instead of her usual smirk. Mercedes reaches out to take Elizabeth from him and sets her down. Rachel straightens his cravat. “Wha-“

“Kurt Hummel!” Queen Andrea’s voice booms across the dais and Kurt stares dumbly back at the royal family, all standing. “Will you please step forward?”

“Go, honey,” Mercedes urges. Elizabeth tugs on his hand and Kurt allows her to lead him across the terrace. He bows deeply at the Queen and on rising, notices his father and stepmother on the step next to Blaine. He stares dumbly at them - when had they arrived?

“Kurt Hummel,” the Queen announces for all to hear, “for service to the crown, we give to you and your family the lands of Neyork for as long as you and your progeny live. For your role in bringing Sue to justice, we award you the title of Duke of Neyork with all of its responsibilities. For your bravery, we knight you as Sir Kurt Hummel, May you ever serve the Crown.”

He kneels and Queen Andrea touches his shoulder with her sword. “Sir Hummel, Duke of Neyork, rise.”

The crowd explodes in loud applause again and Kurt turns and bows to them, overwhelmed by this gesture.

The Queen addresses him again as it quiets. “We invite you to join the royal council as Court Fairy, to organize a school for the education and training of fairies across the country with the assistance of the fairies of Adayn, and to serve to protect and defend the borders of Dalton and its people from the improper use of magic. Do you accept?”

“My Queen,” he answers, as formally as he has been taught, “as a fairy, I take an oath to never use my magic to cause harm to another person, to use magic with integrity for the benefit of all, and to avoid all selfish practices. My oaths are higher than any crown. If I join your council will I be able to uphold my oaths?”

She studies him intently, then nods once. “You will.”

“Then I accept and pledge myself to the service of the Kingdom of Dalton.” He bows again.

“Prince Blaine, step forward,” she commands again and Blaine steps over to Kurt’s side and bows to his mother. “In recognition of your service to the Kingdom, we grant you permission to make your own marital allegiances as you see fit. And we,” She pauses with a twinkle, “and this time, I speak on behalf of your father and I as your parents, give you our blessings.”

Blaine gapes at her. “Mother! You mean it?” 

“Oh, Blaine, do you think I wasn’t aware of your plans?” She holds out her hand and Blaine kisses it. “Well, go on. What are you waiting for?”

Kurt is thoroughly confused by this point, as he stands there awkwardly next to Blaine. Blaine reaches out and grabs Kurt’s hands, gaze focused intently on Kurt’s and suddenly, all of the missing pieces fit together.

“Kurt. Two years ago, I walked into a valley, lost and alone, and I found you.” He squeezes Kurt’s hands and the world fades away to just this beautiful man. “In that moment, something inside said ‘oh, there you are’ and from that moment on, my heart has been yours. Even when the journey was difficult, my heart knew something that my body and mind didn’t know yet. It knew that we were meant to love each other, fearlessly and forever.

“You saved me, Kurt. You not only rescued me from my own foolishness, you made me a whole person with your endless love and compassion and goodness. I owe you everything and all I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted, is to spend my life loving you. 

“So.” He takes a deep breath and Kurt is blinded by his radiant smile. “Kurt Hummel. My amazing friend and my one true love, will you marry me?”

Kurt’s breathless and overwhelmed, emotions swirling with this declaration of love. “Yes.” He says simply, and Blaine surges up to capture his lips in a kiss. Thunderous applause greets their kiss, and Kurt breaks away a little bashfully at the forced remembrance of the audience. “I love you,” he breathes, just for Blaine to hear. 

Blaine leans in closer. “Marry me, Kurt. Today. I don’t want to spend one more day without you by my side.”

He pulls back a little to study his love. “But how?” 

“The Court Registrar,” Blaine nods towards the red headed woman who had overseen Aurora’s naming. “She can wed us, if you’d like. But we don’t have to do this today. We can wait until you’re ready. Prepare a big wedding.”

Kurt silences him with another kiss. “You brought all those I love here today,” he gestures to his family standing beside them and his foster siblings in the background. “I don’t need anything more.”

“Truly?”

“Marry me, Blaine. Become my husband and I yours.”

Blaine’s answering smile is dazzling and Kurt wants to marry him every day to make Blaine beam like that. “I’d like nothing more. Registrar!” He calls out, “will you join Sir Kurt and I together in matrimony today?”

“Blaine! What are you doing? We gave our permission for a courtship and engagement!” The Queen sounds scandalized and, for the first time, like a scolding mother rather than a reigning monarch. “This isn’t proper!”

“Mother,” Blaine pleads, although that smile doesn’t dim, “my love for Kurt will not change with an extra day or a thousand years. Let us wed today.”

Her husband leans over and whispers something in her ear. “And does Kurt want this rushed?” She asks. 

Kurt links his fingers through Blaine’s. “Blaine’s the love of my life.” He answers simply.

Cooper chimes in, “Think of the saved costs, Mother!” 

Andrea shoots daggers at him, but appears placated. “Alright, alright. Registrar Emma may marry you today.” 

“Your majesty is correct though,” Emma informs them, regret in her voice. “The banners have not been read as is custom.”

Blaine deflates. “But—”

“However,” she continues smoothly, “if you petition those present for their assent, that should suffice?”

Blaine turns them both to the crowd and an expectant hush descends over the masses. “My people of Dalton, I ask for your blessing to make Sir Kurt my Prince Consort and I his husband. What say you?”

A deafening cheer answers them and Kurt can’t help but beam at the evidence of the love that these people have for his beloved. 

“Thank you, good people!” Blaine waves a hand towards them before turning to face Kurt’s family. Kurt’s heart yearns for the presence of his carefree brother to make this moment perfect—there will always be a part of him that will grieve Finn’s absence. Blaine bows as he can with his hand still tightly enveloped in Kurt’s. “Burt and Carole Hummel. May I have your blessing to join your family with bonds of loyalty and love to your son?”

Burt studies him for a moment. “You have it, son.” At Blaine’s handshake, he pulls Blaine and Kurt in for a hug and his stepmother kisses them both. 

They lastly turn towards the throne and it’s Kurt this time who speaks up. It’s a formality, but he’s still nervous nonetheless. “Your Majesties, may I have your blessing to join your family with bonds of loyalty and love to your son?”

“If they don’t say yes, I will.” The crowd laughs at the loud interruption.

“Cooper! Hold your tongue, I swear!” The Queen rebukes, and Devon speaks calmly over both of them, clearly used to their antics. “Yes, we grant you our blessing.”

“If it pleases the Registrar,” Kurt answers, “I hear no objection.”

“I record no objections to the union.” Emma announces primly. “Have you a rope for the hand-fasting?”

“I have one.” Rachel produces a thin, red rope, from her satchel and hands it to Kurt as his foster sisters cluster around them. She engulfs Kurt into a hug and then Blaine. “I’m so happy for you.”

“You knew about this.” Kurt accuses without heat.

“Like Blaine could ever keep a secret from us,” Santana scoffs and Blaine grins in acknowledgement. Kurt’s eyes sting at how easily his friends have accepted Blaine as one of their own. 

Mercedes kisses Kurt and pats his cheek, understanding his sudden rush of emotion as she always does. “Go marry your man.”

Surrounded by love, Kurt’s last lingering doubts evaporate. He squeezes Blaine’s hand, hoping to convey all of the love and conviction he feels towards this man. 

“Take your beloved by the hand and tie the cord around.” Emma instructs and Kurt clasps both of Blaine’s hands in his, Blaine never looking away. His eyes are soft, full of love and happiness, and Kurt loses himself in their depths. Blaine’s surety is intoxicating. With a huff, Santana grabs their hands, wrapping the rope around their wrists and hands in an intricate knot, and then, with unexpected sweetness, kisses Kurt on the cheek. His eyes sting anew. 

The Registrar continues. “Do you both, of their own free will, bind your lives together in matrimony?” Kurt looks down at their hands, the bright red cord in an intricate knot and then back into Blaine’s intoxicating eyes. “Yes,” he breathes and feels Blaine’s echoed utterance in the depths of his being.

“This cord symbolizes your lives. Once separate, you are now bound together as one, entwined and unbreakable. Where you have lived separately, now you move into the future together. May you be a light to each other. May you lessen life’s shadows and sorrows with kindness and generosity. May your life together be a blessing for you, for your kingdom, and for all those lives you will touch. With this cord, I bind this union.” She smiles down on them and then gestures with a flustered giggle, “This means that you may kiss each other. Again. If you want.” 

Kurt needs no further prompting as he leans forward to seal his lips to Blaine’s. 

* * *

The party that the Royal Family hosts that night is unlike any seen in the kingdom and the celebration spills out into the streets. Kurt attempts to greet and hug the many well-wishers who line up with congratulations, his hand tight in Blaine’s. It isn’t until the early morning hours, when Blaine finally pulls him into his arms and lets the soft orchestral music sway them back and forth. 

“This was my favorite lullaby when I was a child,” Blaine murmurs in his ear and he softly starts singing, pulling Kurt closer, “ _that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_.”

“ _But if I know you_ ,” Kurt joins in, blending his voice with Blaine’s, “ _I know what you'll do_.”

“ _You'll love me at once_ ” Blaine sings in response and they finish together, “ _the way you did once upon a dream_.”

Kurt kisses his husband again and waltzes them across the room to start their happily ever after.

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading my fic! This was definitely my self-indulgent love fest to tropes and stories that have been beloved to me. I love your kudos and comments - they improve my writing and make my day.


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